


Crush'd

by xslytherclawx



Series: Young, Dumb, and Stung [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2000s, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inspired by Clueless (1995), M/M, Minor Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong, Minor Michele Crispino/Emil Nekola, Minor Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Philadelphia, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-10 06:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 62,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13497064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: Fifteen-year-old Yuri Plisetsky is the coolest kid in school – at least if you ask him – and he has a pretty great life. Except for the fact that his cousin, Victor, seems to think that they’re best friends. To make matters worse, his ex-step-cousin (don’t ask), Otabek Altin, has recently enrolled in a local university, and Yuri can’t seem to get a moment’s peace. At least he can set Victor up with his equally annoying neighbor. When Isabella Yang transfers in from a school in Toronto, Yuri and his best friend Mila decide to take her under their wing. And, well, it’s not his fault she gets a crush on the stupid jock in their algebra class. Yuri just has to teach them all how to be as cool as he is. That can’t be that hard, right?(A Clueless AU wherein Otabek is Josh and Yuri is an emo kid version of Cher)





	1. Fifth Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri Plisetsky has a totally normal life – but why did his grandfather have to invite that asshole Otabek Altin over for dinner?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> 
> 
> This fic was a massive undertaking. I spent most of August and the first half of September writing this, and I've revised bits several times since.
> 
> This started as "haha wouldn't it be funny to make an emo kid Clueless AU with Yuri as Cher?" and morphed into this ~63k giant.
> 
> I have playlists to for [Yuri](https://open.spotify.com/user/helle--/playlist/59YDALE5lvJfAIHc150TJf?si=gtf35W5p), [Otabek](https://open.spotify.com/user/helle--/playlist/31VfJV4wS8gQArlWYMI4jm?si=0cRwdYhJ), and [Victor](https://open.spotify.com/user/helle--/playlist/170EGflvcN3wCDAbZ7HLiH?si=RykBNEMG) on Spotify. They're all appropriate for the time period this fic is set in, even if there were a lot of songs I wanted to add to Yuri's playlist, specifically, that I couldn't.
> 
> A huge thank you to my amazing artists, beanricee and eclair! They were both super communicative and a lot of fun to work with, and both produced amazing art for this fic that I'm super proud to get to include!
> 
> * * *
> 
> This fic is set in late 2008 to mid 2009. I've drawn from my own experiences of growing up as an emo kid in suburban Philly (although not this specific town) in the same era. I've tried to combine the plot of _Clueless_ (with some elements from _Emma_ that didn't make it into _Clueless_ ) with the general arc of the anime (so it's not a cut-and-dried Clueless AU). Some elements are shamelessly ripped from my own adolescence.  
> I've tried to go through an annotate specific regional/late 00s emo things that might need clarifying, but if there's anything you're confused about, please feel free to ask!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Title credits go to Say Anything... and [here's a video](https://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com/post/171023167091/say-anything-singing-crushd-in-philly) of them performing the titular song in Philly last month.  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> so, due to events beyond my control (minor car accident, having to cover extra shifts, etc.) I didn't quite get all the footnotes in I wanted to, so if there is anything you do not understand, please leave a comment and ask, and I promise I'll respond!  
> I also plan to use images for all the text messages, but... that took way longer than I anticipated and is only up to chapter three. I decided ultimately for the more uniform look, but hopefully I can knock the rest of them out relatively soon.

* * *

Yuri Plisetsky nearly threw his alarm clock across the room. The only thing that stopped him, really, was that the alarm clock from hell was the only way to guarantee he got up in time to catch a ride with Mila and stop at the Wawa[1] before school. And, well, he certainly wasn’t going to do that looking like he just rolled out of bed.

He stumbled to his bathroom and turned on his red leopard print hair straightener. While it was heating up, he brushed his teeth and washed his face. He moisturised, and applied his eyeliner as thick as he could manage, pinning his hair back until his eye makeup was done. He looked at his eyeshadows. He was feeling red today, so he applied that. Then he straightened his hair. It was naturally mostly straight, but that wasn’t good enough. It needed to be pin straight.

Once he was satisfied with his hair – and it fell just _so_ , obscuring his right eye – he went to his closet. He eyed his clothes and pulled out a few options before eventually deciding on a red leopard print thermal shirt under a My Chemical Romance Black Parade t-shirt and black and red Tripp pants. And, of course, he planned on completing his look with his cheap, bulky combat boots. He really wanted a pair of Doc Marten 1914s, and hoped that he got a pair for Chanukah. But for now, the knockoffs from Hot Topic would have to do.

He made his way out to the kitchen and grabbed a cereal bar from the pantry. It was more or less tradition to grab breakfast at Wawa before school, anyway, but Mila wasn’t there yet, and Yuri only had his permit.

He went to get a glass of orange juice from the fridge when he saw it:

 _Otabek is coming over for dinner. Make sure you’re here_.

Well, _fuck_. He didn’t understand why he still had to deal with Otabek, anyway. They weren’t even really _related_. His grandfather had married Otabek’s grandmother when Yuri was a kid, but they’d been divorced for _years_. He didn’t get why Otabek kept hanging around.

Pyotya rubbed up against Yuri’s legs and meowed. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your gravy,” Yuri said. He rummaged through the cabinets and found a can of wet food for the cat and spooned it out into her bowl. “Even though I know Dedushka already fed you today.” He poked at her side. She meowed. “You’re going to get fat.”

He scratched the cat behind her ears. He bit into his cereal bar, and, of course, at that moment, Mila began pounding on the door. “Yurachkaaa,” she called. “Let me in!”

Yuri hurried to swallow his cereal bar and went to open the door. “You have a key, you hag,” Yuri complained.

Mila put her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow at him. Her bangs were brushed to the side, and her makeup was more artful than Yuri’s – even, bright purple eyeshadow and eyeliner to match – and she’d even matched her lip ring to her eyeshadow today. She wore a matching bright purple plaid miniskirt, black fishnet stockings, a tight black Misfits shirt, and wristbands and jelly bracelets up her arms.

“You’re fucking insane.”

“I don’t like driving in my coat,” Mila said, as if this explained everything.

“It’s twenty degrees outside,” Yuri grumbled, stuffing his feet into his combat boots, zipping them up, and grabbing his black bomber jacket and Slytherin scarf. He said goodbye to Pyotya, grabbed his keys and his backpack, and followed Mila out the door.

He loved Mila, he did, but she was batshit fucking insane. She was, if he were honest, the only person besides his cat who didn’t make him want to punch them out. She’d managed a spot right outside of Yuri’s building, and he climbed into her battered old Honda Accord, which had previously belonged to her sister before she’d gone off to college, grumbling the whole time. He made sure to take his coat off before he buckled up, because Mila always turned the heater on full blast when she drove. It was ridiculous.

“What’s with all the purple?” he asked as she started the engine. The local rock stations were pretty shit, so Mila’d managed to get a tape deck adaptor for her iPod nano. She pressed play and Gerard Way’s voice filled the car.

“Thought I’d match. Woke up early.” She shrugged. “At least my makeup doesn’t make me look like a corpse.”

Yuri glared at her. “No, yours just makes you look like you have a black eye.”

“Whatever you say, Yurachka,” she hummed as they sped through the suburbs. They listened to the music and bemoaned having to be at school at eight AM – honestly, didn’t teachers need sleep, too? – until Mila swung into the Wawa parking lot and managed to grab a spot up front.

“I’m impressed,” Yuri admitted. “That almost never happens.”

“I should text Sara about it.”

Ah, yes, Sara. Mila’s girlfriend. Who she could never shut the fuck up about. They’d gotten together at the beginning of the school year, when Sara’s family had moved to the suburbs. Sara was okay, Yuri supposed, barring her fucking horrendous accent, but Sara’s brother, Mickey, was the actual worst. Of course, they were all in the same crowd – all punks and scene kids – so it wasn’t like Mickey was awful enough to be a _jock_ , or anything, but he was still fucking annoying. His terrible South Philly accent [2] didn’t help matters, either.

(And it wasn’t like Yuri lacked self-awareness! He knew he had a very pronounced Suburban Philly accent[2], but there was no _universe_ in which that was anywhere near as bad as the wannabe-Brooklyn shit of South Philly – and it wasn’t as bad as the obnoxious way theatre kids over-enunciated everything, either.)

Yuri shrugged and hurried into the convenience store. His family was okay, he supposed, financially. They didn’t do great, but he could afford to grab breakfast here a few times a week. He found his way to the Tastykake[3] stand and grabbed two of those fucking delicious lemon pies. Then he went to the little baked goods section to get a muffin. He waffled over whether he wanted chocolate milk or orange juice, and in the end said “fuck it” and got a double dutch chocolate milk from the refrigerators. His grandfather’s lactose intolerance hadn’t hit him yet, even though he knew, really, it was just a matter of time.

Mila had found some friends and was chatting with them. Seung-Gil looked as impassive as always, but Georgi was dramatically telling some story.

Usually the punks didn’t do extracurriculars, but Georgi and his alarming dedication to the theatre club were an exception. Yuri hated Georgi – thought he was a poser who’d just found a group to latch onto – but he’d never voice that to anyone besides Mila. Seung-Gil was too cool to be bothered, and Sara and Mickey weren’t about to cut anyone out of their group.

Luckily, Yuri caught Mila’s eye without saying anything, and she lit up. “Gotta go!” he heard her tell Georgi and Seung-Gil. She made her purchases, and they walked out to the car together.

“What was Georgi on about today?”

“Anya,” Mila answered. “Who else?”

 _Anya_ was another reason Yuri hated Georgi. It wasn’t because she was a girl – Yuri’s best friend was a girl, and he certainly didn’t care that Georgi was straight – but she was a _theatre kid_ , through and through. And Yuri could not abide someone in his group dating a _theatre kid_.

Theatre kids, it was true, were generally considered by Yuri’s group to be better than the rednecks and the jocks, but they were a notch below the band geeks. And, anyway, Yuri didn’t like the fact that someone in his group – no matter how much he hated Georgi – was dating someone who wanted to _lie_ for a living. Because actors were all fucking liars. Every last one of them.

But enough of that. Yuri didn’t like thinking about that. To get his mind off of that, he stole Mila’s iPod and played “I Write Sins Not Tragedies”. It was, after all, one of the very best songs to sing along to at the top of your lungs, and in that, he and Mila were in agreement.

They arrived at the school parking lot when it was only about half full, and ate their breakfasts. Yuri made sure to save a lemon pie for later, but he savored his chocolate milk. “Why can’t the fucking cafeteria sell _this_ shit?”

“Because it’s a law that school cafeterias have to be disgusting,” Mila responded with a shrug. “I’m pretty sure it’s federal.”

Yuri laughed at that. “Probably,” he agreed. “The best thing they have are the quesadillas or pizza sticks, and those are still pretty bad.”

“Exactly,” Mila said with a grin. She polished off another doughnut. Mila had the incredible luck to be able to eat whatever it was that she wanted without ever actually seeming to gain weight. Yuri would be jealous, but, really, he had the same ability. It was the reason why his grandpa never seemed to catch on that Yuri’s diet consisted mostly of Tastykakes and the “food” from the school cafeteria.

Eventually, he and Mila made their way into the school. Their group of friends was loitering in the hallway outside of the cafeteria. Mila, disgusting person she was, walked right up to Sara and kissed her. She did this every morning, and Yuri got the feeling it was just to piss fucking Mickey off.

And like clockwork, Mickey went off. “Sara! You can’t just do shit like that in public!” he exclaimed in that god-awful accent of his.

And that would have been bad enough, but of course, because _dysfunctional_ didn’t even _begin_ to cover the Crispino twins, Sara stopped sucking Mila’s face long enough to tell Mickey off. “You’re not my _dad_ , Mickey! Mila is my _girlfriend_!”

Yuri looked around at the others in the group. Seung-Gil and Georgi had yet to arrive, but Emil was there, looking awkward by Mickey’s side. Yuri heaved a sigh. “I hate being a fifth wheel,” he said to Mila. “I’ll see you in French.”

Mila nodded and waved him off. Yuri went to his homeroom and nearly backtracked when he realised fucking Victor was in there alone. He stopped outside the room, put in his Skullcandy earbuds, and started playing _Infinity on High_. He made his way to his seat and pulled out his chemistry textbook.

He wasn’t studying, of course, but he tried his best to look like it.

Unfortunately, his actions didn’t deter Victor in the least. “ _Yuraaa,_ ” Victor singsonged.

Yuri rolled his eyes and tried to ignore him, but then Victor pulled out one of Yuri’s earbuds. “Hey!” Yuri snapped. “Watch what the fuck you’re doing, old man!”

“What a way to talk to your teacher,” Victor mock-lectured.

“You’re my fucking _cousin_ ,” Yuri growled. “I don’t even know how they let me be in your class.”

Victor heaved a dramatic sigh. “Yura, you’re so mean to me.”

“Don’t you have any friends your own age?” Yuri complained, reaching for his earbud.

“I have Chris,” Victor said defensively.

“So you have the only other language teacher in this school. Who, also, is a coworker.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to study for my chem midterm. Leave me alone.”

Victor pouted, but Yuri put his earbud back in and returned to his book. He didn’t bother actually reading it – he hated chem, and he had the easiest teacher, besides. Yuri was more focused on his impending Evening of Doom. He couldn’t believe that he had to fucking deal with obnoxious fucking Otabek over dinner. He hadn’t had to deal with that _particular_ pain in the ass since the summer, and Yuri didn’t think it was likely he’d gotten _less_ obnoxious while attending U fucking Penn. 

Oooh, Otabek got into a fucking Ivy League school. Big fucking deal. Yuri could do that, too, probably. He didn’t know that he could afford it. His parents weren’t a doctor and a lawyer – hell, Yuri’s parents weren’t even in the picture – but Yuri could still get _into_ an Ivy. And not a shitty one like Penn. He’d show fucking Otabek. He’d go to Harvard or some shit.

Not that Yuri particularly wanted to go to Harvard, really. But he could get in. Otabek wasn’t special for getting into Penn. That was the point, anyway.

Yuri groaned and buried his head in his hands. He looked up and saw Victor raising an eyebrow at him, but some fucking preps had come into the classroom, so he couldn’t flip him off without them freaking. How unfair.

Yuri continued listening to Fall Out Boy through the announcements, didn’t stand for the pledge (as usual), and packed up at the end of homeroom and went to Civics, his least favourite class (not in the least because none of his friends were in it). He didn’t particularly care about the finer points of the American political system, but he handed in his half-assed homework nonetheless.

After Civics, he had French. With fucking Victor. But at least Mila would be there. Georgi and Mickey would be there, too, and Emil, but Yuri didn’t really care that much about them. They were part of his group by default, but he really only cared about Mila. Emil was okay, he guessed, just… loud and obviously in love with Mickey, who _clearly_ hadn’t begun to accept his sexuality.

Yuri trudged into the class and plopped down at his desk next to Mila. He really didn’t feel like learning the finer points of the passé composé. Hell, the only reason he _took_ French was because he knew Victor wouldn’t fail him. He had no such confidence about Mr. Giacometti.

To his surprise, Victor stood up after the bell and grinned. “So,” he said. “Since our _nondenominational_ holiday break is coming up… I thought we’d have some fun.”

Yuri looked at Mila, unconvinced.

“And, frankly, I’ll be honest. I don’t like working on Chanukah – which starts on Monday, by the way – so we’ll be watching a movie. Your midterm will be after we get back.”

Well, that was news.

Victor clapped his hands and grinned. “So! Today I thought I’d show you the trailers for the films, and we can take a vote! And afterward, if we still have time, we’ll have a quiz on the passé composé!”

Yuri buried his face in his hands and groaned. Of fucking course. Victor always pulled shit like this – good news followed by crushing bad news. The worst part was that Yuri hadn’t studied passé composé at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Wawa is a regional (PA, DE, MD, VA, NJ, and apparently also FL for some reason?) convenience store chain that everyone swears by. When I googled this to get a wiki link for those unfamiliar, google gave me like 10 Wawas in a five mile radius and that's about right. [Here's a link to a map of all Wawa locations as of 2012](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wawa_Inc.#/media/File:Wawa_footprint_2012-07.png). They have great coffee, and food (especially hoagies), and I, no joke, once heard a coworker passionately explaining to her friend the difference between a Wawa and a Super Wawa (gas station added). People in Greater Philly are very serious about their Wawa and if you try to compare it to 7-Eleven you will get a dirty look at best. ([Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wawa_Inc.)) [return to text]  
> 2 The Philadelphia Accent™ is a widely-discussed phenomenon, and there's definitely a difference between Greater Philly (Yuri) and South Philly (Mickey). There are so many books and studies and shit about this, but there's also a [Wikipedia page](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philadelphia_English). Taken from that page,  
> here's an example of a [South Philly accent](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NR5XUoJXdVQ), and one I like linking to of a general [Greater Philly](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3lZFiyd_-0) accent. I can 100% confirm that the latter is absolutely how most people around here talk, especially those middle or working class.[return to text]  
> 3 Fun fact: i had no idea Tastykakes were a regional thing until I was probably sixteen or seventeen. Because they're everywhere here, and they were even in some books we read in school (which I later found out were set in Greater Philly, so, uh. I guess that makes sense). My paternal grandmother always had butterscotch krimpets on hand, and my dad still to this day consistently has peanut butter kandykakes in his pantry. They're delicious and 10/10 if you're ever in the area. ([Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tastykake)) [return to text]  
> 


	2. Pretentious Ass Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek comes over for dinner. Yuri is not impressed.

After school, he and Mila swung by the Wawa again. Mila bought an iced coffee drink (Yuri swore she was a mutant), and Yuri got a hot chocolate. They went over Mila’s house for a while and watched some _ Invader ZIM _ on DVD and listened to more music. When  _ Pretty. Odd. _ came on, Mila groaned. “I still can’t believe they fucking sold out,” she complained, picking My Chemical Romance’s  _ Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge _ instead.

Yuri nodded. “It sounds like a fucking Beatles wannabe album. And who wants to be the fucking Beatles?”

“At least My Chemical Romance hasn’t abandoned us.”

Yuri groaned. “Fuck, I don’t wanna go home. Stupid fucking pretentious Otabek is coming over for dinner.”

“Otabek’s cute,” Mila said with a giggle.

“Fuck you,” Yuri snapped, rolling his eyes. “He’s a pretentious fucking ass.”

“Well, yeah,” said Mila. “But he’s hot. I mean, I’d never make a move, because I have Sara, and I love her, and she’s way hotter than Otabek, but Yura… you’ve gotta admit he’s hot.”

“I don’t have to admit anything,” Yuri growled. “Except that he’s a pretentious ass fuck.”

“Did you mean… pretentious-ass fuck, or pretentious assfuck?”

Yuri swatted at her. “Pretentious-ass fuck, obviously.”

Mila giggled. “Could be the other way around, too.”

“No fucking way, Mila. The guy’s an asshole! He’s in his whole stupid… post-adolescent idealistic phase. No way.”

“But you refuse to date high school boys,” Mila said.

“Because high school boys are  _ dogs _ , Mila,” Yuri said. “You know that as well as I do.”

“Yeah,” Mila said with a shrug. “But high school girls are okay.”

Yuri shrugged. “I guess, but there aren’t many acceptable high school girls to date.”

“So you want a college student who’s… not in a… what was it? ‘Post-adolescent idealistic phase’?” Mila asked, rolling her eyes.

“Exactly,” Yuri said. “Someone older, who’s not so immature, but also  _ not _ a pretentious fuckhead.”

Mila rolled her eyes. “Your standards are too high, Yurachka.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having high standards,” Yuri sniffed. “We live in one of the most densely populated areas in the world. It’s not like we live in some backwater town where there are only two dateable people.”

“I  _ guess _ you have a point,” Mila said in a tone which implied that she didn’t see his point at all. Yuri had tried to explain this to her multiple times, and every time, it led to the same end: Mila, with her girlfriend, not understanding why Yuri had  _ standards _ .

Yuri was about to change the subject, but his phone rang. He checked the caller ID. “ _ Fuck _ .” It was his grandfather. He knew he couldn’t get away with not answering it. He pressed the call button. “Yes?”

“Yurachka, do you know what time it is?”

“No…” He had a feeling, but he didn’t  _ know _ , so it wasn’t  _ technically _ a lie.

“It’s nearly time for dinner. You were supposed to be home twenty minutes ago. Where are you?”

“I’m at Mila’s,” Yuri answered. “I’m sure I can stay here for dinner.” He shot Mila a pleading look.

“Yurachka,” his grandfather said. “We’re going to have a family dinner, and that includes you. I’m cooking, so I can’t pick you up. Have Mila drop you off.”

Yuri bit back a groan. “All  _ right _ ,” he said. “I’ll pack my shit up and leave.”

“Thank you.”

Yuri pressed the end call button and turned to Mila. “I have to go deal with fucking Otabek.”

“Shame you can’t  _ fuck _ Otabek while your grandpa is there.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Stop that shit, Mila. It’s gross. Otabek’s an asshole.”

“I’m just saying,” Mila said. “He’s hot.”

But she drove him home without complaint. They decided to listen to Bring Me The Horizon on the way, and screamed along. Mila pulled into a parking spot at Yuri’s complex halfway through a song, so they stayed and sang through to the end. When it was over, Yuri heaved a sigh. “Guess I’ve gotta go,” he said.

“Text me!” Mila called as he got out of the car. Yuri gave her a thumbs up and trudged to his building’s door. He unlocked it and took as much time as possible to get back to his apartment. When he tried the door, it was unlocked, so he went right in, stopping only to take off his boots in the foyer (his grandfather had raised him properly, after all).

He had to admit, annoyed as he was, that the entire apartment did smell delicious. He went to the kitchen, where his grandfather was plating pirozhki. “I made your favourite. Cabbage, too,” he said.

“Smells good,” Yuri admitted.

“Otabek is on his way,” his grandfather said. “So don’t get any ideas.”

“I just don’t understand why I have to deal with him, is all,” Yuri said. It was most certainly  _ not _ all, but this was his grandfather. “You and his grandmother divorced  _ years _ ago.”

“You don’t divorce children.”

Yuri groaned. “Ded.”

“He doesn’t have anyone else in the city,” Nikolai said.

“ _ We’re _ not even in the city. We’re in the  _ suburbs _ .”

“You know what I mean, Yurachka.”

“Just because his real family lives in fucking California doesn’t mean that we should adopt him. It was that asshole’s decision to come to school on the East Coast.”

“Language, Yurachka,” his grandfather warned.

Yuri huffed. He didn’t think his  _ language _ was the issue; the issue was that his grandfather somehow still thought that annoying asshole Otabek was worth any of their time. He turned on his heel and went to his room, ostensibly to put his bag away, but once he got into his room, he flopped onto his bed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He flipped his phone open to get to the keyboard and started a new text message to Mila.

> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> kill me
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> sorry but without you id die in french class so im not gonna kill you
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> unfair. im telling victor u dont pay attention
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> omg yurachka how dare u
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> mila srsly im havin a crisis i dont wanna deal with this jackoff
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> (1/2) youre just dramatic. its one dinner youll be fine. otabeks going to fuckin penn anyway like i doubt hell wanna spend much time in the glorious suburbs ykn
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> (2/2) ow? phillys kinda shit but it’s better than here

Yuri rolled his eyes and hoped beyond hope that his friend was right. Because he could only take so much Otabek before he tried to strangle him.

His grandfather called him out to dinner, and Yuri decided to accept his impending doom as gracefully as possible: by stomping all the way to the kitchen, where Otabek was sitting in Yuri’s seat.

“That’s my seat,” Yuri said.

Otabek looked up at him. “Oh. I’m sorry. I’ll move.”

He got up and moved to the next seat over. Fucking asshole. Yuri sat down in his seat and waited for his grandfather to serve dinner. In a normal situation, he’d help, but not with Otabek there. His grandfather put a serving platter of pirozhki in the center of the table, went back to the counter, and returned with three plates and three bowls of borscht.

Yuri wanted to dig in, but he knew better. His grandfather would be upset if he didn’t at least wait for the blessings[1]. So he waited as his grandfather said the blessings – and made sure to say “amen” at the right times – before digging in. The pirozhki, as always, were heavenly. He  _ almost _ didn’t notice that Otabek was there. Almost.

“So, Otabek, how have you been?” Yuri’s grandfather asked.

“I’ve been well,” said Otabek. “Classes have been a little tough, but I expected that. I got tickets to the inauguration, so I’m excited for that.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. Otabek was  _ eighteen_; he could at least do with not pretending that he was a grown-ass adult. Besides, why sit through over two hours of traffic each way to D.C. only to deal with a giant crowd and freezing weather when you could just watch the damn thing at home? “The inauguration?” he repeated.

Otabek nodded. “Well, yeah. It’s historic. First black president. And hopefully things’ll be better with that jingoistic asshole out of office.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “They show that on TV, you know.”

Otabek ate a spoonful of borscht and rolled his eyes. “You know, in some parts of the universe – maybe not in Hot Topic, though – it’s considered cool to know what’s going on in other parts of the world.”

“Boys,” Yuri’s grandfather chastised.

“At least I don’t look like I’m trying to be the first Asian Beatle,”[2] Yuri growled, biting into a pirozhok with more force than strictly necessary.

“I’d rather look like a Beatle than an emo kid,” Otabek said with a shrug. “But I guess we all have that teenage rebellious phase.”

Yuri counted to ten in his mind, reminding himself that if he killed Otabek, he’d disappoint his grandfather. And he’d never see Pyotya again. Or Mila.  _ Ten, nine, eight, seven_…

 

* * *

“He was so fucking insufferable, Mila!” Yuri complained the next morning. “He called me an emo kid!  _ Emo _ ! Everyone knows I’m punk!”

“I mean,” Mila said, “the hair swoop isn’t very punk.”

“It’s  _ cool_,” Yuri insisted. “And my hair’s not dyed black, so I’m not an emo kid. I don’t just, sit in my room listening to Evanescence while slitting my wrists.”

“I think that’s goth,” Mila said, furrowing her brows. “Either way, at least you probably don’t have to deal with him for a while.”

Yuri groaned and slammed his head against the window. “That’s the worst part: Ded invited him over for Chanukah.”

Mila pulled a face. “Well, you can always come over mine for Christmas. But that’s just one night.”

“I already have to deal with fucking Victor; why is the world out to get me like this?” He groaned. “At least Victor’s parents are fucking  _ dead _ . Otabek  _ has _ parents! Who could afford to fly him out for the holidays!”

“But… he’s a Muslim, right?”

Yuri shrugged. “So what?”

“I mean… I don’t think Muslims  _ have _ holidays in December. So why would he fly home?”

“He could bother someone else for a change,” Yuri grumbled, crossing his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 This is not to be confused with Christian grace before meals. Observant Jews of all movements/denominations say Brachot before eating. These are formulaic, set prayers, which can be found [here on Jewish Virtual Library](http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/brachot-blessings-before-eating). Chabad (Orthodox) also has a [comprehensive page](https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/278538/jewish/Food-Blessings-Brachot.htm) for them. [return to text]  
> 2 I have a running joke with some friends that Otabek has Brendon Urie hair, so I thought "hmm 2008/2009 AU... I wonder what kind of hairstyle Brendon had then" and it turns out it was definitely a kind of [Beatles-wannabe mop](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d6/05/b5/d605b5de1475b08298a457abe41c5fd4.jpg%20) and I couldn't _not_. (Also, I hope we all know by now that Otabek as a Kazakh is Central Asian and not Middle Eastern)  [return to text]  
> 


	3. Bonding Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor drags Yuri to the mall. On Shabbat, although it’s not like Yuri cares about that.

After homeroom, Victor held him back. “Yura!” he called.

Yuri groaned and thought about making a run for it. After a few seconds of thought, he decided against it; Victor would hunt him down anyway.

“Yes?”

Victor smiled that dumb heart-shaped smile of his, which never fucking reached his eyes because instead of acknowledging his depression like  _ normal _ people, he tried desperately to hide it. It was pathetic. “What do you want for Chanukah?”

Yuri paused. “Do I have to get you something?”

Victor shook his head. “Of course not! But I wanted to get my favorite little cousin a present!”

“ _ Only _ cousin,” Yuri corrected. “And I’m not little.” He thought about it. “Hot Topic gift card. Slytherin stuff. Doc Marten 1914s.”

Victor nodded and made notes. “I can’t promise anything, but I’m going to King of Prussia tomorrow, so.”

Yuri faked horror. “On  _Shabbat_?” [1]

Victor didn’t find that very funny. “Yuri, Ded just wants us to be proud of our heritage and culture. Especially with the current political climate.”

“Again with the politics,” Yuri grumbled. “You sound like Otabek.”

“I mean,” said Victor. “Otabek is a Muslim. He has every reason to be excited about a new president.”[2]

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I’m going to Art, now.”

“Have fun!”

There was no one else in the room, as Victor had a free period after homeroom on Wednesdays and Fridays, so Yuri flipped him off as he left.

He made it to art on time, and sat down at his seat next to Emil. Emil was no Mila, but he was okay. Kind of annoying, and hopelessly in love with Mickey for some unfathomable reason, but all in all  _ okay _ . 

Besides, it was Emil’s turn to pick the music for the class, and his tastes were better than most of the others. Their art teacher’s rules about what they could and couldn’t play meant a lot of great music got left off by default, but Yuri and Emil always managed to find something decent that worked. None of that garbage pop music.

They were working on colour theory and the class went by quickly. Yuri was dreading math, his next period, but at least it was only every other day.

It wasn’t, strictly speaking, that Yuri was  _ bad _ at math, but he found math for the sake of math  _ really boring _ . And it didn’t help that math teachers were usually just so bad at explaining how to do math, or that Yuri was virtually alone in his math class. (This was, although Yuri would never admit it, because he’d elected to take the upper level math class).

By the time lunch rolled around, Yuri was desperate to talk to Mila. It was a chicken nugget day, which, all things considered, wasn’t terrible, but Yuri wasn’t usually thrilled about it. He found Mila in line and snuck ahead to stand with her. Some people complained, but he ignored them.

“Yurachka!” Mila cried, hugging him. “English was  _ so boring _ . Like, I’m sorry, but why do I have to read a play that’s like five thousand years old? Who cares?”

“At least you didn’t have  _ math _ ,” Yuri spat.

“Well,” Mila said. “That’s next, for me.”

“But at least Mickey’s in your class, even if he’s a dick. I’m stuck next to overachievers.”

Mila hummed. “I guess that’s true…”

They got their chicken nuggets and found their lunch table. Yuri complained the whole way. “And Victor’s being fucking weird.”

“What’s  _ Monsieur  _ Nikiforov doing now?” Mila asked, her tone mocking. She did, of course, call Victor “Monsieur Nikiforov” in class, but she’d known both Yuri and Victor since she was seven years old.

“He’s just being… weird. Held me after homeroom to ask me what I wanted to Chanukah, said he was going to King of Prussia tomorrow to get it, and when I teased him for saying it was Shabbat - which it fucking is - he got all high and mighty about Ded and preserving our cultural traditions blah blah blah.”

“That doesn’t sound weird for Victor,” Mila said.

Yuri shrugged. “I dunno. He’s just been  _ weird _ lately.”

Mila patted his shoulder. “Aww, you’re  _ concerned _ .”

“I am not!” Yuri protested, his face bright red. He was, of course, starting to become concerned, but Victor was an annoying asshole so he’d never admit that out loud, even just to Mila. “I just don’t want him to slam us with a bunch of quizzes.” He rolled his eyes.

Mila turned to her chicken nuggets. “He’s practically your brother. It’s okay to be concerned about him, you know.”

Yuri stabbed a nugget viciously with a fork he didn’t even need. “Victor can fuck off.”

As if on cue, just after Mickey, Sara, Emil and Georgi sat down, Yuri heard it. “Yuraaaa!”

He looked around the table, trying to find a way to hide, but it was too late. Victor had found him.

“What do you  _ want _ ?” Yuri asked, shooting his annoying older cousin a glare.

“Do you want to go to the mall with me tomorrow?”

Yuri said a short prayer of thanks that everyone at the table knew Victor was his cousin. Otherwise… well, that could look awkward, to say the least. “I thought you were buying my present,” Yuri said.

“Present _ s _ ,” Victor stressed. He shrugged. “I already bought some online, next-day shipping. Besides, we both need to get something for Ded and it could be a  _ bonding experience _ !”

Yuri looked to his friends for assistance, but they all just seemed to find this  _ hilarious _ .

“You know, Yurachka,” Mila said. “You’re the only one here who celebrates Chanukah, but you could stand to get us all Christmas gifts.”

“Well,” Georgi said, because of course he did, “ _ I _ celebrate the winter solstice. But I suppose the point is the same.”

Victor positively beamed. “Great! I’ll pick you up at ten!”

“In the  _ morning _ ?” Yuri screeched. 

Victor, however, did not seem to notice his cousin’s distress. “Yes, in the morning. It’s King of Prussia, Yuri. And we’ll  _ probably _ go down to Christiana for a few more expensive things. I’m not paying six percent sales tax on a thousand dollar computer.”

“You are a high school teacher,” Yuri said. “You shouldn’t  _ need _ a thousand dollar computer.”

Victor waved him off and walked away. Yuri turned back to his friends. “Thanks a fucking lot, assfucks.” He shoved some chicken nuggets into his mouth. “Now I’ve gotta deal with that fuckhead for a whole  _ day _ tomorrow. Fuck you guys.”

“You’d better get me something nice,” Mila said, poking Yuri’s side.

“Fuck  _ you _ , especially. ‘You could stand to get us all Christmas gifts’???  _ Fuck  _ you.”

Mila ruffled his hair. “I love you, too, Yurachka.”

* * *

Victor, true to his word, picked Yuri up at fucking ten in goddamn the morning on a fucking Saturday. Yuri made sure to look presentable: thick black eyeliner, straightened hair, black skinny jeans, an Invader ZIM t-shirt, a Slytherin hoodie, and his knockoff combat boots. And because he wasn’t an idiot like Mila, he made sure to put on his fuking winter coat before Victor rushed him out the door.

Victor’s disgusting pink Ford Fusion was parked outside. Yuri rolled his eyes, as always, when it saw it.

“ _ Ça va _ ?” Victor asked him once they were in the car. He started playing some disgusting French pop music.

“I don’t speak French on the weekends,” Yuri said, crossing his arms.

“You’re no fun,” Victor said, rolling his eyes. “Yura, you need to learn that it’s okay to  _ like _ things.”

“I  _ do _ like things,” Yuri argued. “I like cats, and junk food, and shitty B horror movies, and music.”

“Let me rephrase, then,” Victor said. “It’s okay to like things that don’t fit the image you’re going for.”

Yuri snorted. “And what, exactly, do you like that doesn’t scream ‘gay as hell’?”

Victor sniffed. “That’s not the image I’m going for. It’s wealthy, eccentric, and European. Cultured.”

“You’re from Drexel Hill,” Yuri said slowly. “You were born in Philly. That’s not… European in the least.”

Victor shrugged. “Like I said:  _ image _ .”

Yuri huffed. “Can you at least put on good music?”

“Yura, I’m the one who has to drive. I’m not listening to Pete Wentz scream the whole time.”

“Pete Wentz is a  _ bassist _ ,” Yuri corrected, affronted. How could Victor be so out of it to not even know what Pete Wentz did?

“Whatever,” Victor said. “It’s my car. I’m driving.”

Sensing defeat, Yuri did the most logical thing he could do: fished his Skullcandy headphones and iPod touch out from his pocket and blast  _ actual music _ until Victor pulled into a parking spot at King of Prussia Mall.

“So, I need to get some things for Chris and Ded, and then I’m done.”

Yuri eyed his cousin curiously. “Just Chris and Ded?”

“Well,” Victor said, shrugging. “I already ordered your presents. One for each night!”

Yuri suddenly felt a rush of guilt. “You know, you really didn’t have to do that…”

“I know,” Victor said, “but I’ve got the money, and you are, as we’ve established, my favourite little cousin. I wasn’t going to skimp.”

“Victor,” Yuri said slowly. “Don’t you have, y’know, other friends and stuff to buy for? Like small shit?”

Victor shrugged. “No, not really. Just Chris. I mean, I’m aware that you don’t consider us friends, and considering that you’re also my student, maybe that’s for the best, so… it’s just Chris, really.”

“But you  _ work with him _ ,” Yuri said. Did Victor really not have any friends? Yuri tried to think of people he could call Victor’s friends… and he came up short. It really  _ was _ just Chris.

“You go to school with all of your friends,” Victor said, as if this also applied to himself, when Yuri was fifteen and Victor was twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight, a grown-ass adult with a job and an apartment all his own. “Now… I was going to get our dear Dedushka some nice things from Williams-Sonoma.”

“He’d like that,” Yuri agreed. “I was going for a cat from Build-A-Bear.”

Victor hesitated. “Well, from you, he’d like that.”

“...I thought about cooking something, too” Yuri admitted. “But I don’t know how I’d manage to make that a surprise.”

Victor lit up at that. “You could come over my place! I’ve got a full kitchen!”

Yuri considered it. Victor lived in the Gayborhood in the city.[3] He had a nice apartment (thanks to his inheritance from his rich dad), but it was a hike. “Fine, but I’m not taking SEPTA[4] an hour to get there.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Victor promised. “Or we could do that today?”

“Maybe,” Yuri said. He didn’t want to commit to spending the whole day with Victor, but… when he thought about it, he wasn’t sure when else he’d have time.

“I’ll even help you with your homework! You could use the help with French!”

Yuri shot him a dirty look. “You’re my French  _ teacher _ . If I’m shit at French, isn’t it at least partially your fault?”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Not if you’re the one avoiding your homework and not paying attention in class because you think I’ll be lenient.” Victor met Yuri’s gaze. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Yuri felt slightly guilty, but he shoved that feeling down. “Why doesn’t our stupid school have a better language?”

“Well, we  _ are _ underfunded,” Victor said with a shrug. “Mr. Cialdini accepted a job at a private school. His replacement is starting after winter break, and even then… if our marching band hadn’t won awards, the school board wouldn’t have approved it.”

“That’s stupid,” Yuri said viciously, shoving his hands into his pockets. Emil did band, and he always seemed to like Mr. Cialdini.

“It is,” Victor agreed with a nod. They arrived at Hot Topic. “I suspect this is the main place you wanted to go?” There was a teasing lilt to Victor’s voice, and Yuri shot him a dirty look.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Maybe the bookstore.”

* * *

He left Hot Topic with t-shirts, bags, makeup, and CDs for all of his friends. He spent the most on Mila, of course, but he made sure to get Sara, Emil, Mickey, and even that asshole poser Georgi  _ something _ .

He’d agreed to go to Victor’s apartment after they finished shopping, so, naturally, Yuri was horrified when Victor swung his tacky car into the Petco parking lot on the way back to Philly. “Have to get something for Chris, after all,” Victor said with a smile.

Yuri figured, really, he should probably get Pyotya something for Chanukah anyway. She was his angel, and she deserved to be spoiled. Victor got a cart from in front of the store, and Yuri ignored him to go to the cat toys section. There were adorable little gefilte fish catnip toys, so Yuri grabbed those before heading to the bargain bin toys. It wasn’t like Pyotya would know the difference, anyway, and she deserved a present every night.

Then he decided to track down Victor. He’d expected to find his cousin in the dog section, but he was horrified to find Victor standing by the cat beds.

“Yura!” Victor said, waving him over. “Which is the best cat bed?”

“You have a giant poodle,” Yuri said. “Any cat would be terrified of her.”

“Not for me!” Victor insisted, waving him off. “For Chris!”

Yuri had heard, of course, that Christophe Giacometti had a cat. Apparently he had pictures of her on his desk. So, really, Yuri didn’t really register that as that strange. Maybe that was a mistake, but it was Victor. He was insane anyway. 

Yuri found an appropriate cat bed and pointed it out. “That one.”

Victor beamed and put it into his cart. “Okay, we can go!”

Yuri paid for Pyotya’s presents on his own, and by the end of it, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go to Wawa for breakfast until at least mid-January, but it was worth it.

What was not worth it, however, was listening to Victor’s terrible taste in music all the way back down to center city Philly. Victor miraculously managed to find a parking spot in front of his building. Yuri left his nonessentials in the car, but he begrudgingly helped Victor bring his piles of purchases up to his apartment. 

Makkachin jumped up at them when they got inside. Yuri managed to squirm away while Victor petted the dog. Yuri dumped the bags in the living room. “So I was gonna make pirozhki and a babka,”[5] Yuri said to Victor, who was still playing with the dog. “Do you have everything?”

“Uh,” Victor said, looking up. “I’m not sure! Do you have a recipe?”

“Not on me,” Yuri said. “I didn’t exactly plan this.”

Victor hummed. “Let me look one up online. I’m sure we need some things.”

He patted the dog and went to the large iMac in the living room. Yuri flipped open his phone and found a text from Mila.

> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> yurachkaaaa im dying of boredom
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> well somehow i got roped into going to victors house to bake stuff for chanukah
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> awww cousinly bonding
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> tell him your best friend in the world deserves an a in french for effort
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> somehow i dont think thatll work

He rolled his eyes at Mila’s antics. “Mila says she deserves an A in French for effort,” he called to his cousin.

“I can’t give preferential treatment,” Victor scolded.

“Bullshit. You’d never fail me.”

“I’d never  _ fail _ you, sure. But I wouldn’t give you an A just for showing up. I only give A’s to people who deserve A’s.” He didn’t take his eyes off of his computer, and a few moments later, his printer jolted to life. Victor turned to Yuri then. “We should probably check the ingredients lists before we start, and this way, we can take them into the store.”

It was a good idea, but Yuri didn’t want to actually admit that. “Fine,” Yuri huffed. He blew at his hair, but followed Victor into the kitchen. Victor threw open the cabinets and rifled through, periodically checking with the recipes.

“So we neeeeed…” Victor started, “Flour, yeast, sugar, lemon, eggs, butter, chocolate, cocoa powder, powdered sugar, sour cream… and whatever you want for fillings for the pirozhki.”

Yuri snorted. “So what do you actually  _ have _ ?”

Victor looked over the recipes. “Water and salt.”

“Amazing,” Yuri said. “You’re a grown-ass man, Victor.”

Victor pouted and crossed his arms. “I have a busy life, you know.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. Victor’s life didn’t seem that busy, if he could spend all day at the mall and with his cousin without any real prior planning. Something deep down nagged at Yuri. This wasn’t normal behaviour, not even for Victor. Yuri shrugged it off for the time being. It was probably just that the holidays were so close.

He followed Victor to the grocery store and helped him get the ingredients they needed for pirozhki (he decided on mushroom and cabbage) and the chocolate babka. Victor also grabbed a bread pan for the babka. Victor insisted on paying (and Yuri didn’t argue, really, because Victor had a lot more money than he did), and they went back to his apartment.

The stupid dog jumped at them again, and Victor managed to coax her down. “You know,” Victor said quietly, and, Yuri was sure, mostly to himself. “Sometimes Makka is the only reason I get up in the morning.”

Yuri snorted. “That’s stupid.”

Victor looked up at him. “What?”

“You’ve got Ded, and Giacometti, and me. Not just the dog.”

Victor managed a smile. He was just getting weirder by the minute. Yuri didn’t really know how to deal with it, but he knew that he was stuck there until the babka and pirozhki were done, because there was no way he could pull that off at home.

Fortunately, ten minutes later, Victor seemed to be (mostly) normal. He helped Yuri make the pirozhki dough first. “I think the best course of action,” Victor said. “Would be to make the dough now, and put it in the refrigerator, and then come over Monday after school to make the filling and put them together. That way they’re fresh.”

“Okay,” Yuri agreed. “But no French homework then.”

“Have you forgotten already that we’re watching a movie all next week?” Victor asked. “I know  _ I’m  _ forgetful, but I didn’t think it was from Ded’s side of the family.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, but continued making the dough. It seemed a bit sticky and thin, but Victor assured him it would be fine once it had chilled in the fridge. They moved on to the babka, which they’d decided to make that day. It would hold better than the pirozhki, and the less he had to do on Monday, the better.

Together they made pretty quick work of it, and even though Yuri was sure the babka was messier than it should be, he knew that his grandfather would love it anyway. Once it was in the oven, Victor turned to him. “Want to watch a movie?”

It was weird, really, because Victor was twelve years older than him and a grown-ass adult, but Yuri didn’t have anything better to do (and didn’t trust his cousin alone with a babka in the oven and only one timer to remind him), so he flipped through Victor’s selection of DVDs (depressingly few in English, and even fewer that Yuri would ever actually waste time watching), and as soon as he saw  _ Sweeney Todd _ , he grabbed it. “Victor, do you actually have  _ taste _ ?” Yuri asked, brandishing the DVD.

“I do have taste,” Victor sniffed. “And I’ll have you know that  _ Sweeney Todd _ is a Tony-winning musical.”

“We’re watching this.” Yuri said, putting the disc in the player before Victor could really argue. He settled down on the couch and didn’t even mind that the dumb dog put her head in his lap, because holy shit, Victor had  _ taste _ ?

“For the record,” Victor said. “I think I have some German classics[6] that you’d also enjoy, but… this is fine.”

Yuri ignored him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Yuri's being a dick here, but technically you're not supposed to drive or spend money on Shabbat (among other things). In Judaism, this is from sunset on Friday to sunset on Saturday. [return to text]  
> 2 This is winter 2008, so he means Obama. Bush should absolutely not be rehabilitated; he was an islamophobic, jingoistic moron whose incompetency led to the deaths of millions of people. Like you can just google how rampant islamophobia was under Bush's presidency, and a lot of people had high hopes for things getting better under Obama. [return to text]  
> 3 They Gayborhood is a part of Center City Philly in Washington Square West. Can you imagine Victor living somewhere else because I can't. ([Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_Square_West,_Philadelphia#The_Gayborhood)) [return to text]  
> 4 SEPTA - South Eastern Pennsylvania Transit Authority. So. Public transit, including busses, subways, and regional rail. [return to text]  
> 5 Babka is delicious and amazing and I defer to [My Jewish Learning](https://www.myjewishlearning.com/the-nosher/what-is-babka/) on a more comprehensive description of what it actually is. [return to text]  
> 6 I imagine Yuri would get a kick out of like, Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari, Metropolis, M: Eine Stadt sucht einen Mörder, and a lot of other classics from the golden age of German cinema. [return to text]  
> 


	4. Chanukah Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri celebrates Chanukah with his grandfather, Victor, and… Otabek?

It was easy, once he got home Saturday night, to rationalise away Victor’s weirdness and forget about it. Maybe it was a little too easy. Come class on Monday, however, Yuri was hit with Victor’s weirdness full-force. Perhaps the fact that he hadn’t come by Sunday night to light the menorah should have been a bigger clue, but Yuri just figured it was because Victor needed to do shit last-minute.

“So!” Victor announced as soon as the bell rang. “As you all know, today we’ll be watching a film. Since no one could come to a conclusion, and I know for a fact you all watched _Le fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain_ , which isn’t even that great a film, honestly, we’ll be watching the classic, _Les Parapluies de Cherbourg,_ which is much better. And after that, if we have time, we’ll watch another film that I’ve selected personally, _Joyeux Noël_.” [1]

“You’re _Jewish_ ,” Yuri blurted. “Why are we watching a _Christmas movie_?”

“There’s a Jewish character,” Victor said. “It’s more about humanity in the face of total, devastating war.”

Yuri noticed Mila scribbling, and she slid her notebook toward him.

 

_ I s Victor okay?  _

 

“There better be a Jewish character. Otherwise it’s not a secular choice.”

“I am _well aware_ of that, Yuri,” Victor said. “There’s a Jewish character. I actually saw it in the cinema in France. But first, as I’ve said, we’ll be watching _Les Parapluies de Cherbourg_.” And that, it seemed, was that, because Victor turned to start the film.

Yuri wrote back to Mila.

 

_I really don’t think so._

 

_We should do something…_

 

_What can we do? He’ll get over it eventually._

 

_I really don’t think he will… we should do something to make him happy somehow. For Hannukah.  ….That’s a Hannukah spirit thing, right?_

 

_Chanukah spirit is violently crushing assimilation attempts and surviving in spite of all odds. But i guess… it couldn’t hurt to get Victor some friends or something so he stops trying to befriend ME. i’m his cousin and he’s like twice my fucking age._

 

_Then we’ll figure something out. We can plan over break and move into action once the holidays are over._

 

_Sounds like a plan._

 

He was going to pay attention to the rest of the movie, honestly he was, but… it was some ridiculous fifties musical _in French_ , and… Yuri couldn’t help but notice that Victor had his head down on his desk. Mila was right. They should do something. This wasn’t normal.

 

_I’m going over his house tonight to finish making something for Ded for Chanukah. I’ll do some recon there._

 

_Yes!! Text me!!_

 

And so, the beginnings of a plan in place, Yuri pulled out his own notebook and started to think. Ways to get Victor to be less annoying… (and, y’know, emotionally secure and healthy, too, sure).

 

_Dogs?_

_Trip to France?_

_Friends? (Where to find friends for Victor???)_

_Hobbies????_

_Boyfriend???_

 

At the end of class, he passed Mila his list. She’d add to it and give her feedback, and then they could work from there.

* * *

At lunch, Mila handed Yuri back his list. She’d made a number of additions and notes. Yuri read through the list.

 

_Dogs? Good!!!  _

_Trip to France? Would you be paying for it????  _

_Friends? (Where to find friends for Victor???) find friends for victor wherever sad people go - therapist?  _

_Hobbies???? What? find him new hobbies? how?  _

_Boyfriend??? I can ask but i’m pretty sure his standards are IMPOSSIBLE  _

_THERAPIST!!!!! Honestly yurachka the man needs a therapist_

_He could get a roommate?_

_Part time job at the dog shelter? (NOTE: COULD MAKE HIM VERY SAD)_

_A cat (better than dogs)_

_Less depressing movies_

_Again: a therapist. I think that’s our best bet._

 

“Well,” Yuri said. “A therapist is a good idea, but I don’t know how to get him one.”

“So what do you think?” Mila asked. It was, in addition to being the first day of Chanukah, also a pizza dipper[2] day at the cafeteria, so the line was longer than usual.

“Maybe the best way is to find him friends or a boyfriend,” Yuri said. “People his own age who aren’t Giacometti.”

Mila nodded. “I was thinking about that, but it’s not like we know many thirty-year-olds.”

“We’ll have to keep our eyes out,” Yuri said. “And in the meantime… I’ll try to talk with him about therapy during break.”

Mila nodded, and their plan was decided upon. Yuri managed to score an _extra pizza dipper_ , so he was in an extra good mood when he made it to his table. He wasn’t, strictly speaking, all that observant, but for his grandfather’s sake, he always tried to keep kosher[3] during certain times of year. Chanukah was one of them. So, really, he was glad that it hadn’t been a chicken quesadilla day to test his (admittedly weak) resolve.

He dove straight into the pizza dippers, not wanting anything to distract him from his meal. Like hell he’d let one of the two good lunches they had here go uneaten. Once he was done, he turned to Sara. “No jackass brother today?”

Sara shook her head. “Mickey wasn’t feeling well this morning.” She did not, however, counter the fact that her brother was a jackass. Good. Yuri mostly liked Sara, when she wasn’t being gross with Mila.

“That explains why Emil looks like a lost puppy,” he grumbled.

Sara giggled, but tried to look stern. “You shouldn’t tease him about that.”

“Emil’s fine,” Yuri said defensively. “He just has shitty taste in guys.”

“He’s right,” Mila said. “Sar, I don’t know how you and Mickey are related sometimes, let alone _twins_.”

Sara shrugged. “Mickey right now is struggling with his sexuality. I’m sure once he accepts it, he’ll be far more agreeable.”

“We can only hope,” Yuri muttered. “He’s already _seventeen_.”

“We were raised Catholic,” Sara said. “It can be difficult to overcome.”

“I’m just saying,” said Yuri, “the guy’s a dick, and if accepting that he’s gay as fuck will make him less of a dick, then I want him to get on with it.” He took a gulp of his chocolate milk. “Anyway, Sara, do you know anyone who’s like, at least twenty-two, out of college, who’d want to befriend my annoying cousin?”

Sara shook her head. “Everyone I know who’s an adult would… probably not get along well with Victor, if we’re honest. My family’s _very Catholic_.”

Yuri groaned. “Fantastic.”

 

* * *

Yuri went to Victor’s classroom after he was done for the day. Predictably, Victor was already ready to go when Yuri got to the classroom. He beamed when he saw Yuri. “Yura! How was your day?”

“Well,” Yuri said. “They had pizza dippers at lunch, and Mickey was out, so it wasn’t horrible.”

Victor tapped his lip with his index finger. “Michele Crispino?” he asked. “I thought he was your friend?”

“He’s Sara’s brother,” Yuri said. “But he’s not my friend.”

“I see,” Victor said. “Well, let’s go! Makka needs to go for a walk, and we can finish cooking!”

And so Yuri had no choice but to follow Victor out to his stupid pink car and endure his stupid crappy French pop music all the way to the Gayborhood.

The dumb dog jumped up when they got in, but Victor distracted her with a treat – had he had that in his pocket the whole time? – and Yuri threw his bag on the couch and went to the kitchen. He pulled the cabbage, mushrooms, and sour cream from the fridge and started his prep. Victor tried to help, but Yuri nudged him out of the way. “These are _my_ present for Ded. I know how to make the filling and stuff them. That’s always been my job when I help Ded make them.”

“Okay,” Victor said, hands in the air. “I’ll be in the living room, then.”

Yuri thought that was too good to be true… until he heard the unmistakable sounds of _American Idol_. Fucking Victor. “Why are you watching that?” Yuri called.

“Next season starts in three weeks!” Victor called back. “I’ve got to be prepared!”

Fucking Victor. Yuri really needed to find someone Victor’s own age for him to hang out with, since obviously Giacometti wasn’t cutting it. At least, though, with Victor in the living room, Yuri could work blissfully free of Makkachin.

Once the filling was made, Yuri had the foresight to put it into the fridge. If it was too warm, that could potentially fuck everything up. So Yuri washed his hands and checked his phone. Mila had texted him, as always.

 

> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> i hate algebra
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> join the club.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> yurachkaaa why are you so smart
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> bc i’m just that awesome
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> and remember if you hadnt taken art again youd probably be in my math class
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> not fair yurachka. not fair.

Yuri rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, and figured he might as well offer some sort of concrete support.

 

> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> if you want you can come over tomorrow after school and ill help you through the problems
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> thank you yurachka! i knew we were freinds for a reason!
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> i demand payment in tastykakes
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> done.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> peanut butter ones. and butterscotch krimpets. and the lemon pies.
> 
>  
> 
> From Milushaaa <333
> 
> so demanding. FINE.

Yuri flipped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket. He knew he needed to let the fillings cool a bit more, so he went out to the living room. “So Victor,” he said.

Victor paused the television program. “Yes?”

“You live in the Gayborhood.”

“You’re too young to go to gay bars. I’m not sneaking you in.”

Yuri pulled a face. Was that really what Victor thought he wanted? “No, gross. I just wanted to know how someone as obviously gay as you lives in the Gayborhood and is still single.”

Victor pursed his lips. “It’s a holiday, you know.”

“Not a religious one.”

Victor heaved a sigh. “If you _must_ know, it’s because my standards are too high. This isn’t Manhattan. Philly’s _okay_ , but it’s still _Philly_.”

Yuri furrowed his brows. “What standards?”

“Well,” Victor said. He tapped his index finger to his lips. “I don’t date Americans. Anyone I date would need to be exceptionally beautiful – inside and out – intelligent, and talented at something. And ideally he’d speak French.”

Yuri blinked at his cousin. “What. Victor, this is _Philly_.”

“I know it’s Philly. You asked why I’m single and I told you.”

“Then why are you still here if the men here don’t meet your standards? You’re obsessed with France, why not move to Paris?”

Victor ruffled Yuri’s hair. “I’m staying until you’ve graduated high school. Besides… I don’t like the idea of leaving Ded indefinitely. I like being close.”

“I can take care of Ded,” Yuri said.

“Well, for now, Ded can take care of himself, but when he gets older… I’m not sure.”

“Mila said you should go to therapy,” Yuri blurted without thinking.

He didn’t know what he’d expected Victor to do at that, but it certainly wasn’t saying, “She’s right,” with a dry smile.

“ _What_.”

Victor shrugged. “I should get back to therapy.”

 _Back_ to therapy? Yuri hadn’t even been aware Victor had _gone_ to therapy in the first place.

“I noticed that I was starting to go into a bit of a depressive dip, but I hadn’t realised it was so bad that my students would notice.” Victor buried his face in his hands. “I’ll call my therapist. I should’ve done so weeks ago, honestly.”

“Um,” Yuri said, trying desperately to think of a way out of the mess he’d just made. “The filling’s probably almost cool enough, so I’m gonna go… roll out the dough,” he said, making his way slowly back to the kitchen. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

* * *

The pirozhki were a little lopsided, and the filling was sticking out of a couple, but Yuri was proud of them. Victor, apparently recovered, packed them up in tupperware, and let Yuri pick which gift bag to put them in. (Yuri wanted to pick a red one, because it was more badass, but he settled on a pale blue one with little dreidels on it because he knew his grandfather would like that one more). The babka he also packed up, but that would be a gift for another night. It would be fine in his room. Yuri grabbed his backpack and helped Victor load up the car.

He’d been to Victor’s enough to be _wildly confused_ when Victor continued down Walnut Street all the way into University City. “Uh?” Yuri asked. “What are we doing?”

“Picking up Otabek,” Victor said as if it were obvious.

“ _What_?” Yuri screeched over the shitty French pop music Victor always insisted on playing.

“He’s staying with you and Ded for the holidays, remember?”

“It’s _Monday_ , I thought that was later!”

“Well,” said Victor, “Ded asked me to pick him up at his dorm.”

Yuri groaned and dug his iPod out of his bag. Victor took it from him. “Be _nice_ , Yura.”

“Me ignoring him is as nice as I’m going to get,” Yuri growled, reaching for the iPod, but Victor slipped it into a compartment on the driver’s side door.

“You’ll get that back once we get to Ded’s.”

Yuri got a text as Victor was about to turn down 33rd.

 

 

> From: Otabek Altin
> 
> Hey Yuri this is Otabek. I’m actually at the Inn.

 

“Hold on,” Yuri said. “The jackass just texted me. He’s not at his dorm.”

Victor looked around. Traffic wasn’t terrible; he stayed put. “Where is he?”

“The inn? Whatever that means?”

Victor heaved a sigh. “It’s just ahead. Tell him we’ll meet him there.”

“Fine,” Yuri said with a huff.

 

> To: Otabek Altin
> 
> nice of you to tell us before we got to university city jackass
> 
>  
> 
> To: Otabek Altin
> 
> well pick you up at the stupid hotel
> 
>  
> 
> From: Otabek Altin
> 
> Thank you! I didn’t have Victor’s number and didn’t want to tell Kolya!

Yuri rolled his eyes and shoved his phone in his pocket. “I’m not sitting in the back.”

Victor got back into the main flow of traffic and in a few minutes they arrived at the hotel. Otabek was waiting outside with his suitcase. His expression was impassive as always, and… holy shit was that asshole holding an iPhone?

Victor pulled off to the side and popped the trunk before putting the car into park and got out to help Otabek. Yuri didn’t make any move to help. It only took a few seconds, and then Victor got back in the driver’s seat.

Otabek got into the seat behind Yuri and shut the door. “Thank you again for picking me up.”

Yuri scoffed, but Victor buckled his seatbelt and said, “It’s not a problem. We’re all family, right?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. Otabek wasn’t his family. Their grandparents had been married for a couple years half a decade ago.

“So why were you at the stupid hotel?” Yuri asked.

“I… didn’t want to be a burden to your grandfather. He’s already being too kind by letting me stay over break while the dorms are closed – I didn’t particularly want to fly back to California and get harped on about how literature isn’t a useful major unless I intend to study law, because Anara’s in medical school, and Erasyl got a one-seventy-five on his LSATs.”[4]

Well that was… more detail than Yuri had anticipated.

“Sorry,” Otabek said. “It’s… been pretty stressful.”

“Well,” said Victor. “You’re at an Ivy. They could stand to lighten up.”

“ _You_ went to an Ivy,” Yuri said. “And you’re a high school French teacher.”

“ _And_ I studied at the Sorbonne, too,” Victor added.

“How could I fucking forget?” Yuri grumbled, rolling his eyes. It wasn’t like Victor didn’t talk about his time in Paris all the fucking time, or anything.

“My point is,” Victor said, “there’s a lot more to life than your career. You should do what you love. You can make a living, but… there’s no need to become a lawyer or doctor if that wouldn’t make you happy.”

“Thanks,” Otabek said. “I wish my parents would understand that.”

Yuri scoffed. “I don’t even know what I want to do yet, so you’ve got one on me.”

“I don’t think your grandfather would be upset about that, though,” Otabek said, because of fucking course he did. What an ass. “I went home for Thanksgiving,” he said. “That was enough. I couldn’t take almost a month of that.”

“Almost a what now?” Yuri asked. He thought Otabek would only be staying through New Years…

“Spring semester starts January fourteenth,” Otabek said. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I have a SEPTA pass, and I’ll try to keep out of your hair.”

And it was then that Yuri realised the most horrific thing of all: they didn’t have a guest room. He’d have to deal with a month of Otabek crashing on the couch.

Fuck.

 

* * *

Nikolai was cooking in the kitchen when they got in. Yuri hugged him hello after making sure to take his shoes off. “I’ve got to put some things in my room,” he said.

“Be sure to show Otabek where to put his things while you’re at it.”

“What?” Yuri asked. Surely he hadn’t heard right… there was no way…

“We’re not going to make him sleep on the couch. You still have a bunk bed.”

“The top bunk is full of stuffed animals!” Yuri protested.

“Yurachka,” his grandfather said. “If I’d known Otabek was leaving his dorm today, I’d have let you know earlier, but as you can probably tell… this was a little last minute.”

Yuri groaned. “Fine.” He turned to Otabek. “Come on, I guess.” He wanted very badly to stomp all the way to his room, but they had gotten noise complaints before, and he didn’t want another on top of everything that was going on. He led Otabek back out into the living room and through the short hall to his bedroom.

The walls were still white, but almost every square inch was covered with posters for bands or horror movies. The floor was covered in dirty clothes, and Yuri’s bed hadn’t been made in weeks. His crappy Acer laptop was on his bed, and Pyotya was sleeping on his pillow. “Some hello from you,” Yuri grumbled at his cat. She twitched her ears in response.

He heaved a sigh. “I guess… let me get my suitcase…” He went into his closet without waiting for a reply from Otabek and pulled out the battered old red suitcase from under a pile of clothes. He hauled it out to the room and flipped it open before climbing up to the top bunk. He started throwing stuffed animals into the suitcase.

“I can help,” Otabek said.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Ded would have my ass if I didn’t do this.”

“Well,” said Otabek, climbing up. “He’d have _my_ ass if I told him I’d been staying in a hotel all weekend, and had been planning on spending all week there.”

Yuri huffed, but didn’t protest when Otabek started handing him stuffed animals to throw into the suitcase. After a few minutes, they’d cleared off the bed. “I guess I should probably get extra sheets,” Yuri said. “Those’ve been on there since Victor moved out, probably.”

Otabek furrowed his brows. “That’s… that has to be at least five years…”

“Nine,” Yuri corrected. “But my stuffed animals never seemed to mind.”

“You haven’t had friends over?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Of course I have. But Mila and I share a bed when she comes over. Besides, her house is bigger and she has a PS2 we can play, so we usually go over there.” He climbed down from the top bunk and made sure all of the animals fit in his suitcase. He had to sit on it to get it to zip up properly, but he managed to tuck it off to the side where it wouldn’t be _too_ in the way.

He kicked his dirty clothes off to the side, too. “Laundry room’s in the basement. Ded probably won’t make you pay for it yourself.”

Otabek nodded. “Okay. And don’t worry; I’ll live out of my suitcase. I don’t want to inconvenience you any further than I already have.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Look, Ded’s not gonna bitch at you to go to law school, or whatever, and it’s better than spending all that time alone in a hotel room.” He continued trying to clean up. “How did he find out you were done classes?” he asked.

When Otabek didn’t answer immediately, Yuri turned to look at him, and was surprised to see that Otabek was _blushing_. “I, uh, called to wish him a happy Chanukah,” Otabek eventually said. “He asked me when my exams were over…. And…”

“And…?” Yuri prompted.

“Uh, well… I told him my last one was today, and he told me I had to come over as soon as I was done packing, and that Victor would pick me up. I… didn’t want to argue, so I packed up and checked out of my hotel room.”

Yuri snorted. “And when was your _actual_ last exam?”

Otabek rubbed the back of his neck. “Today’s the twenty-second?” he asked. Yuri nodded in confirmation. “Then that would be… ten days ago.”

“Ten… days ago?” Yuri asked.

“I’m a literature major,” Otabek said. “I pretty much just had to write final papers. I had a freshman math final, and a Russian final.”

“Why Russian?” Yuri asked.

“Russian literature.”

“But you’re Kazakh,” Yuri said, “Your entire family history is being oppressed by Russians.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “Not quite my _entire_ family history. And that doesn’t make me like Russian literature any less.”

“Otabek,” Yuri said. “...You weren’t in that hotel for over a week, were you?”

Otabek shook his head. “No. I stayed in the dorm as long as possible. I started staying at the hotel Wednesday night.”

Yuri pulled a face. “Why?” Of course, he could imagine why; he wasn’t thrilled about spending the next three weeks with Otabek. It stood to reason that Otabek didn’t want to spend the next three weeks with him, either.

“I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “You’re not an inconvenience,” he said, turning his attention to Pyotya. “Ded doesn’t think so, and I don’t either.” He picked the cat up and snuggled her.

“You don’t?”

“Look, you shouldn’t be alone for a fucking month. I know you don’t have any holidays this time of year, but it’s still a shitty time to be alone.” He realised after the words were out of his mouth that maybe he’d gone a bit too far. He tried to change the subject. “Anyway, I was in the car with Victor on Saturday going to King of Prussia and he didn’t even know who Pete Wentz was.”

“Well,” Otabek said. “Victor doesn’t seem the type to enjoy pop punk. Granted, it’s not my preferred genre, personally...”

“But you do,” Yuri said, “know who Pete Wentz is, that is.”

Otabek nodded. “Yeah. He’s the bassist for Fall Out Boy. Strictly speaking, not the best bassist, but that’s not why people like him.”

Yuri snorted. “It’s not,” he agreed. He could admit that; he liked Pete Wentz because he was hot. Like everyone else he knew.

“Ray Toro, though,” Otabek said. “From My Chemical Romance. He’s a great guitarist.”

Yuri nodded in agreement. “Mila thought I named Pyotya for Pete Wentz,” he said, snuggling with the cat in question.

“You didn’t? It means Peter…”

“She’s a _girl_ ,” Yuri said. “And her name is Puma Tiger Scorpion.”

Otabek blinked, then nodded. “That’s a badass name.”

There was a knock on the door frame. “I hope you’re both decent!” Victor called.

“Shut the fuck up, Victor,” Yuri snapped. He stormed over to the door and threw it open. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Dinner,” he said. “And then Ded wants to light the candles. He was upset I missed last night.”

“Of course he was, you fucking asshole,” Yuri said. “You didn’t even _call_.” Yuri kicked at his shin on his way out of the bedroom, but, unfortunately, Victor managed to dodge him. He carried Pyotya into the kitchen, where his grandfather was plating vareniki. “Need any help?” Yuri asked.

Nikolai smiled. “If you wouldn’t mind getting the wine and grape juice.”

Yuri nodded, put Pyotya down on the floor, and went to the fridge.

“You are being nice to Otabek, right?” his grandfather asked. “You know, he had an argument with his parents over Thanksgiving… not everyone is lucky to have such a supportive family as you and Vitya.”

“I know, Ded,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. “Blah blah blah Otabek’s a literature major and his siblings are going to med school or whatever.”

“Is that what he told you?”

Yuri shrugged. “More or less.” What else would Otabek have told him? Nothing?

His grandfather just hummed as Yuri put the bottle of wine and bottle of grape juice on the table.

* * *

After the blessings for their meal and wine were said, the meal was eaten, the _Chanukah_ blessings were said, and the candles were lit, Yuri went back to his bedroom to get his presents for his grandfather, Pyotya, and Victor. He put the large blue bag in his grandfather’s lap, tossed Victor his envelope, and put Pyotya’s (wrapped) present in front of where she lay in front of the television.

When he went to go back to his seat, there were three presents in his spot. “Uh?” He looked to his grandfather and to his cousin, who pointed to Otabek.

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Otabek said.

“Now _I_ feel like an asshole,” Yuri grumbled.

“You can pay me back on New Years.”

“Fine,” Yuri said. He turned to his grandfather. “Ded, you go first.”

His grandfather unwrapped Yuri’s pirozhki first. “Are these what I think they are?”

Yuri nodded, proud of himself. “I made them myself! Well, Victor let me use his kitchen, and bought the ingredients. They’re cabbage and mushroom!”

“I’m sure they’re delicious,” Nikolai said. “Let me put these in the fridge, and I’ll take a couple for lunch tomorrow.”

“I can do it, Ded!” Yuri offered. His grandfather held the tupperware out, and Yuri ran them out to the fridge. When he returned, he turned to his grandfather. “Okay, you can open the next one.”

Nikolai unwrapped what Yuri recognised as Victor’s present. Yuri wondered what, exactly, it was, because Victor had gotten _a lot_ at Williams-Sonoma. A few seconds later, his grandfather had undone the wrapping to reveal two sets of chef’s knives.

“One for meat, one for pareve,” Victor said. “There should be stickers in there, too, so you can mark them.”

Nikolai smiled. “Thank you, Vitya. They’re wonderful.” He’d learned not to insist that Victor was spending too much money. He’d tried one year, and it had led to as close to a proper argument as Yuri had ever seen between them.

He opened Otabek’s present last. Yuri still didn’t understand why Otabek felt like he had to get them stuff, but when his grandfather pulled the gift out of the bag, Yuri actually… had to give Otabek some credit. It was a cookbook, but Yuri really couldn’t imagine where Otabek had found it, as the cover was in Hebrew.

“A friend of mine helped me find it,” Otabek said. “It’s a collection of Israeli recipes. They should all be kosher, too.”

“Thank you, Otabek,” Nikolai said.

“I wasn’t sure if you could read Hebrew, but if you can’t, my friend’s offered to translate it for you.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I should be able to understand it.” Nikolai turned to Yuri. “Yura, why don’t you go next?”

Yuri nodded. If he were honest, he’d been feeling impatient, but he’d thought he’d been doing a good job of hiding it. He opened the biggest package first, which turned out to be a Slytherin hoodie from Victor. He turned to his cousin. “Did you get this at _Hot Topic_?” he asked.

Victor shrugged. “You were _very_ distracted with everything you were getting your friends. It wasn’t hard to sneak a few things. And, of course, I got you something for last night, too, but I forgot it at home. I’ll bring it tomorrow. Remind me at school.”

Yuri nodded and pulled the hoodie on. He opened the next package, which was smaller and, Yuri could tell from the handwriting, from Otabek. It was carefully wrapped, but that was no match for Yuri, who tore the wrapping paper off in two fluid motions. The CD inside was definitely one he didn’t have. “The Smiths?” Yuri asked, reading the name on the cover.

Otabek nodded. “A lot of the bands you like were influenced by the Smiths. I’m not sure if it’s something you’d like musically, but I think it’ll resonate lyrically.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess. I definitely don’t have this one.”

“Let me know if you don’t like it, and I’ll get you something else.”

Yuri nodded. “Sure.” He turned his attention, then, to the next present, which was, really, just an envelope. He tore it open to find a $25 Wawa gift card. He turned to his grandfather and hugged him.

“I know you and Mila like to go get snacks there,” his grandfather said.

“Thank you, Ded.”

Victor went next, and he cooed as expected over all of his gifts: a “world’s best dog dad” mug from Ded, a card from Yuri promising one (and only one) non half-assed French assignment, and some Russian DVD from Otabek. Yuri’s card actually made Victor cry. Fuck; Yuri really needed to take care of that. It was just a homework assignment.

It didn’t take long after that for Victor to decide it was time to head home and walk Makkachin. Yuri stayed out in the living room watching television with his grandfather for a bit while Otabek did something on his computer.

After a while, Nikolai went to go to bed, and Yuri turned the TV off and went to his room. Pyotya was, predictably, on his bed, so Yuri couldn’t quite flop down, but he did manage to remember to text Mila.

 

> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> otabek got me a present???
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> oooooh what if he LIKES you
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> shut up you fucking hag. he got ded and victor presents too.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> yeah but what did he get them and what did he get you? i bet yours was WAY more thoughtful and personal
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> why the fuck do you think he likes me???
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> the way he looks at you.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> you haven’t seen him look at me in YEARS

Yuri rolled his eyes and snapped his phone shut just as Otabek came into the room. “Uh, is this okay?” Otabek asked.

Yuri rolled his eyes again. “What? Coming into the room you’re staying in? Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Just wanted to make sure,” Otabek said. He put his laptop on the top bunk, but didn’t climb the ladder, so Yuri looked at him expectantly.

“Yes?”

“Are there any… Chanukah movies? Like there are Christmas movies?”

“Some, I guess. I can really only think of that shitty Adam Sandler movie and the Rugrats special though.” He actually tried to think about it then. “Victor usually makes us watch _Fiddler on the Roof_ at least once, and usually some dumb Barbra Streisand movie because he’s the gayest man alive.”

“Is he?” Otabek asked. “Like… he’s actually gay?”

Yuri snorted. “He’s the _gayest man alive_ , Otabek. Of course he’s _actually_ gay.”

“And your grandfather’s fine with that?”

“I mean, yeah? Ded wants us both if we ever have kids to raise ‘em Jewish but other than that he just wants us to be happy and healthy.” A thought occurred to him. “If _you’re_ not fine with that…”

“I am!” Otabek insisted. “I really, really like your grandfather. He’s a good guy, and I’m glad he’s supportive of Victor. I just didn’t want to assume…”

“Victor is as gay as it is _humanly possible_ for a man to be,” Yuri emphasised. “He’s been taking me to Pride with him for a few years, and I’m pretty sure he out-gays everyone there. And I’m not being derogatory or anything. It’s just who he is.”

“Oh,” Otabek said. “And he seems… pretty happy and well-adjusted.”

There was something in Otabek’s tone which stopped Yuri from ranting on about how clingy and clearly depressed Victor was. “Yeah, I guess. He’s got a job, a dog, and a family that supports him. He said himself he’s only single because of his fucking ridiculous standards, the first of which is _foreign_ , like this is some super international place.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “And he was a model when he lived in France, as you probably know because he never shuts the fuck up about _France_ .” Yuri checked his phone. He had another message from Mila, but he ignored it. “You’re from _California_. It’s not like Victor’s the first gay man you’ve ever met.”

“I got into an argument with my parents,” Otabek said. “About… my major, among other things. But also… I told them.”

“You told them what?” Yuri asked, not comprehending what Otabek was trying to get at.

“That I’m… like Victor.”

Yuri snorted. “Otabek, you’re _nothing_ like Victor. For one, you didn’t cry at all today and –” It hit Yuri just what Otabek meant. “ _Oh_. You’re gay?”

Otabek nodded.

“Well,” Yuri said, “who cares about your asshole parents?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Why would I care about _that_ ?” Yuri asked. “For one, it’s not like _I’m_ straight, and I grew up with fucking _Victor_ , _and_ my best friend is dating another girl.”

“You’re not straight either?” Otabek asked in a strange voice.

Yuri shook his head. “I’m bi. Christ, Otabek, have you _met_ many punks? We’re like, _all_ bi. It’s kind of weird when you think about it. Georgi’s the only one I know who’s straight, and that’s just because he’s not actually punk; he’s a desperate poser. I mean, sure, Mickey _says_ he’s straight, but the only woman he ever talks about is his sister, and it’s just clear that he hasn’t accepted the fact that he may actually be _gayer_ than Victor. At least _Victor_ can think of pretty girls who he’s not related to.”

Otabek smiled at that. “Thanks, Yuri.”

“For what?”

“I… haven’t really told a lot of people.”

“So, like, what, did you used to pretend to be straight?” Yuri asked.

Otabek shrugged. “I don’t know if _pretend_ is the right word. I didn’t date girls, or anything.”

“But you didn’t date _boys_ , either,” Yuri guessed.

“Well, no,” Otabek admitted. “I didn’t.”

“Sara’s parents don’t know she’s dating Mila,” Yuri said. “I didn’t know if you’d had something like that…”

“No,” Otabek said. “Nothing like that. I just didn’t date. Didn’t talk about celebrity crushes, or whatever.”

In spite of himself, Yuri felt bad for the guy. He didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t feel comfortable gushing about Gerard Way to people he trusted. Would it even be _trust_ then? “Well,” said Yuri. “You can talk to me about celebrity crushes, I guess. God knows Victor already does.”

Otabek actually _smiled_ , which Yuri was pretty sure constituted a miracle. “Thanks. I don’t want to bore you with all of that right now, though. I got some books out from the library before I left, and I’d like to get through at least half of them during break.”

“You… spent all semester reading books and now you want to read _more_?”

Otabek shrugged and went to go up to the top bunk. “Thanks again,” he said.

“We forgot to change the sheets,” Yuri reminded him. He got up from his bed and out to the hall closet. He grabbed a set of red sheets and went back to his room to hand them to Otabek. “And don’t worry about it. Seriously. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with you.” He looked Otabek in the eyes. “Although if you compare yourself to Victor unironically again, I’ll have to kick your ass.”

Otabek blinked. “Understood,” he said.

“Good.” Yuri flopped down on his bed, avoiding Pyotya. “Fucking asshole gave us French homework over break…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Joyeux Noël is a great movie about the WWI (unofficial) Christmas Truce of 1914, featuring perspectives from German, French, and Scottish troops. It's great, and it features Daniel Brühl as the German officer (who is Jewish). I'm not sure it's suitable for a high school French class because it's in a mix of French, German, and English, but it is a good film. [return to text]  
> 2 Pizza dippers are a typical American public school cafeteria food. They're technically like, cheese-filled breadsticks that you dip in sauce but they're fucking delicious and sometimes, even six years later, I get a weird craving for them. You can see pictures of them [here](http://www.conagrafoodservice.com/products_and_brands/themax-products.do) \- they're "MaxStix". You can also buy them on Amazon for like $100 for a giant box. [return to text]  
> 3 I don't have the room to explain kashrut, but the specific point Yuri's thinking about here is that meat and dairy are supposed to be separated. Kashrut also regulates which animals you're allowed to eat - most people know pork and shellfish aren't kosher, but it's a bit more than that. ([Judaism 101](http://www.jewfaq.org/kashrut.htm))[return to text]  
> 4 The LSAT is out of 180 points - the average score is around 150. [return to text]  
> 


	5. Rugrats Chanukah Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri solves his Victor problem.

Yuri thought on what to do about the Victor Problem even into break. The answer came to him on Christmas Eve. Otabek was in the bedroom, listening to music or reading or  _ something _ (Yuri certainly didn’t care), and Ded was at work, which mean that Yuri and Pyotya were alone in the living room when someone came knocking.

He groaned but gently shooed Pyotya off of his lap and got up to answer the door. A glance through the peephole showed his annoying next door neighbour. He opened the door. “Yes?”

“Hi!” The man said. “Uh, I’m Yuuri Katsuki, I live next door…”

“I know who you are,” Yuri said. “What do you want?”

“A cup of flour if you can spare it? We’d go to the store, but everything’s closed already…”

Yuri heaved a sigh. “Fine. Take your shoes off.”

The man, the Other Yu[u]ri, stepped inside and took his shoes off. “We don’t wear shoes inside, either.”

“I don’t care what you and your boyfriend do.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” the Other Yuri said. “He’s my best friend. He has a boyfriend, though, but his boyfriend lives in the city.”

And then Yuri remembered the Victor Problem. He looked at the Other Yuri. He didn’t look to be too old, but he was definitely old enough to go out drinking, right? “How old are you?” Yuri asked.

“Uh, twenty-four?”

That could work. “And you’re not American.”

The Other Yuri shook his head. “Japanese.”

“Speak French?”

He nodded. “I studied French opera.” 

Yuri laughed in spite of himself. “Holy fucking shit. You  _ need _ to meet Victor.”

“Victor?” the Other Yuri repeated.

“My cousin.” He went into the kitchen and measured a cup of flour into a tupperware. “Bring that back around… seven?”

“Uh, sure?” the Other Yuri said, still clearly confused.

Yuri shoved the tupperware into the man’s arms. “Not before seven.”

“Okay?”

Yuri rushed him out the door and went to grab his phone to text Mila.

> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> I HAVE SOLVED THE VICTOR PROBLEM
> 
>  
> 
> From Milushaaa <333
> 
> that’s impressive. all on your own? 
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> at baba’s please kill me. cousins. ugh.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> i’m getting Looks. I’ll call you later.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> bitch youd better

Yuri couldn’t simply let that sit, though, so he went to his room. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing,” he said loudly.

“Reading,” Otabek answered, not even looking up from his book. Honestly, what the  _ fuck _ ?

“But  _ I’ve _ just found the perfect guy for Victor.”

_ That _ , it seemed, did the trick. Otabek marked his page and leaned over the ledge. “You did what?”

“Well, Victor’s been really clingy lately, so I figured he needed someone else to occupy his time. And our next door neighbor just came over asking for flour, and he’s perfectly Victor’s type.”

“Yuri, you really shouldn’t meddle in Victor’s life like that.”

“I just  _ told _ him to come back when Victor’s here. If Vitya hates him, then that’s that. I’ll start over.”

“ _ Start over _ .”

“Yes,” Yuri said impatiently. “It’s been like, a week since Mila and I decided to do this.”

“Look, maybe you should let Victor find his own friends. He  _ is _ an adult, after all.”

“Just wait until tonight,” Yuri said.

“Yuri, do you even know if this man  _ likes  _ men?”

….Well, shit. Yuri hadn’t really thought of it. “He was wearing a really gay cardigan. A straight man would never.”

Otabek rolled his eyes. “Is that how you make all of your judgements on people? Their clothes?”

“Clothes can tell you a lot,” Yuri said defensively. “ _ Your _ clothes say you’re an annoying, idealistic asshole.”

“Good one,” Otabek countered. “But you had no idea I was gay until I said so.”

“Yeah, but this is the other way around.”

“Yuri,” Otabek said. “I really think this is a bad idea.”

“Oh, shut up,” Yuri said. “I’m trying to do something  _ nice _ for my  _ cousin _ .”

“You  _ just said _ you’re doing it so Victor leaves you alone.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not nice.”

“This is pointless,” Otabek said. He grabbed for something, put a set of headphones on, and opened his book again.

Yuri huffed and pulled out his phone.

> To: Otabek Altin
> 
> bet you anything this works. 

He stormed out of the room and went back out into the living room. Ten minutes later, once Pyotya was settled comfortably in his lap, Yuri got another text.

> From: Otabek Altin
> 
> It won’t.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Otabek Altin
> 
> if im right you owe me tickets to warped tour this summer.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Otabek Altin
> 
> If you’re right, I’ll go with you to warped tour.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Otabek Altin
> 
> But if I’m right… you have to go to the inauguration with me.

Yuri rolled his eyes and groaned. But it didn’t matter, really, because he’d win. Otabek would lose, and Yuri would get to go to Warped Tour,[1] _ finally_.

> To: Otabek Altin
> 
> deal. hope youre prepared to lose altin.

Yuri resisted the urge to get his laptop to look up who, exactly, would be on Warped Tour this summer (if the list was even up yet), and, really, the only thing that prevented him from doing  so was Pyotya napping peacefully in his lap. 

* * *

Victor came over around three with an armful of Barbra Streisand DVDs, seeming more cheerful than Yuri could ever really remember. Unfortunately, this meant that he brought his giant mutt, the very scent of whom made Pyotya hide on the top bunk in Yuri’s room.

Yuri asked him what the fuck his problem was after making sure that Pyotya was safe, and to his absolute  _ horror _ , Victor hugged him. “I’ve met my  _ soulmate _ .”

Yuri saw Otabek whip out his phone from the corner of his eye. Fuck. Now he had to go to the stupid fucking inauguration in the freezing fucking cold all the way in fucking D.C. And no Warped Tour, either. Yuri groaned and went back to his room. “I’m too sober for this.”

“I sincerely hope that’s just an expression!” Victor called after him.

Yuri went to fish his phone out of his pocket, grumbling the whole time, when the door behind him opened. “So much for being supportive of your cousin.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I’ll go to the fucking inauguration with you,” he growled. “I guess the point is the same. Only instead of seeing all the bands I love, I’ll be stuck in a giant crowd outside for hours in D.C. in January.”

“I’ll take you to Warped Tour, too,” Otabek said.

Yuri looked up at him. “Wait, really?” 

“Can’t promise I’ll love it, but I have pretty diverse tastes, so.”

“ _ Why? _ ” Yuri asked.

“You clearly want to go, and while I’m sure your grandfather lets you do a lot of things he probably shouldn’t… I have a feeling a giant music festival is not among them.”

“Oh,” Yuri said. “Thanks.”

“But I’ll only take you if you go to the inauguration,” Otabek said. “I still won.”

“Fine, fine,” Yuri grumbled. “I guess I should talk to Victor before he starts crying again.”

“Might be a good idea.”

They went out to the living room, where Victor was honest to god dancing with his stupid fucking dog. It was better than Victor being all weird and depressed, but not by much. He shot a look at Otabek, who seemed unfazed. Why was this his life?

“Let’s watch a movie!” Victor enthused. “Although I’m not sure I could sit still.”

“When do you ever sit still?” Yuri asked. “We can watch  _ The Dark Knight _ . Batman’s Jewish. It counts.”

“Let’s watch  _ Funny Girl _ !” Victor said, as if he hadn’t even heard Yuri.

Yuri shot a panicked look at Otabek. The filthy lying traitor said, “That sounds like a great idea. I’ve never seen it.”

“It’s  _ so good _ !” Victor insisted, still dancing with the poor poodle.

Yuri groaned. He knew if he went to his room, he’d never hear the end of it. But he’d already been forced to sit through  _ Funny Girl _ no less than a dozen times. This night was going to be awful.

* * *

By seven, Ded had come home, they’d all eaten, said the blessings, lit the candles, and opened presents. Victor pulled out another fucking cheesy Barbra Streisand movie when there was a knock on the door. Yuri groaned and went to get the door, but Victor beat him too it. Happy Victor was  _ fast _ .

It was definitely The Other Yuri at the door, and Yuri strained to eavesdrop. He caught Otabek’s unimpressed look. Yuri wished his grandfather weren’t in the room so he could safely flip Otabek off. Victor’s squeal when he opened the door, and his shriek of “ _ Yuuri! You came to celebrate Chanukah with me!” _ was unmistakable. And also… what the fuck?

He didn’t have long to dwell on it, because seconds later, Yuuri Katsuki and his even more annoying roommate were in the living room, taking off their shoes.

“Everyone!” Victor called. “This is  _ Yuuuuuri _ . He and I met at the nondenominational holiday party at work.”

Yuri pulled out his phone.

> To: Otabek Altin
> 
> looks like its just warped tour
> 
>  
> 
> From: Otabek Altin
> 
> Does it still count if your actions had nothing to do with it?
> 
>  
> 
> To: Otabek Altin
> 
> yes. shut up. besdes IM the one who convinced him to come back when victor was here.

“Don’t mind them,” Yuri heard Victor say. “They’re dating.”

“ _ What _ ?” Yuri screeched. “We are  _ not _ dating! I was texting  _ Mila _ .” That was definitely a lie, and he wasn’t even entirely sure why he said it.

“Right,” Victor said, “That explains all of the furtive glances between you two.”

“We’re  _ friends _ ,” Yuri said. “That’s  _ it _ .”

“Yeah,” Otabek said. “Just friends.”

“ _ Well _ ,” Victor said. “Neither of you have said hello to  _ Yuuuuuri _ .”

“I  _ just _ gave him a cup of flour like five hours ago,” Yuri said.

“Yes,” Yuuri said. “Uh, Yuri was the one who told me that you’d be here!”

Well, Yuri thought, it wasn’t untrue, but The Other Yuri hadn’t seemed to know who Victor was when Yuri had mentioned him. 

“Okay, I’m going to my room. Hello Fake Yuri, Fake Yuri’s roommate. Goodnight.” Yuri didn’t even have to collect Pyotya, since she was still in his room, hiding from the dog. 

He flopped onto his bed, since Pyotya was safe on the top bunk, and pulled out his computer. He’d just opened his MySpace tab when Otabek came in the room and shut the door behind him.

“So what was  _ that _ ?”

“No fucking idea,” Yuri said. “When I told Fake Yuri to come over earlier, he didn’t have any clue who Victor was. Figured I should leave before that shit got any more Twilight Zone bullshit.”

“Well,” Otabek said. “You don’t  _ have _ to go to the inauguration with me. But if you do  _ want _ to, I’ll have an extra ticket, anyway.”

“Fat chance,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. “I can watch it at home.”

“Yuri,” Otabek said. “About what Victor said…”

“He’s Victor. He’s ridiculous. Don’t worry about it.” The  _ last _ thing he wanted was Otabek thinking he  _ liked _ him, when they’d… finally started to settle into some kind of rhythm.

Otabek opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Yuri’s ringtone. He checked the caller ID.  _ Sara _ . Huh. “I should take this.”

He hit the call button. “Hello?”

“Yuri! I know this is a long shot, but is Mickey with you?”

_ “Mickey?” _ Yuri repeated. “Why would he be with me?”

“He walked out. We were over our Nonna’s[2], y’know, in the city, and… she said some things and he just stormed out. You’re the only one who answered, and Mickey left his phone here.”

“Uh,” Yuri said, trying to think. “He’s definitely not here. Try Emil? Or Georgi, even? Mila’s at her grandparents’. I’m sure he’s fine,” he said, sounding much more confident than he felt. “How about you call Emil, and I’ll call Georgi?”

“Okay, yeah,” Sara said. “And I’ll call his old friends from the city.”

“There you go,” Yuri said. “I’m gonna call Georgi, and then I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay,” Sara said. “Honestly, our grandmother is such a… I can’t blame him.”

“Well, hopefully he just went over a friend’s house. It’s not like he has a lot of them to choose from.”

“Right,” Sara said. “I’ll call Emil now.”

She hung up. Yuri groaned. “Fucking fantastic.”

“Something wrong?” Otabek asked.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Fucking shithead Mickey Crispino walked out during Christmas Eve dinner with his homophobic grandparents and now his sister – who I actually  _ like _ when she’s not trying to suck my best friend’s face off – is all worried. I need to call Georgi. Hold on.”

It was a quick call with Georgi, who hadn’t heard from Mickey since before homeroom on Wednesday, and he texted Sara as much. Yuri fell back on his pillow.

Otabek hesitantly sat down on the bed next to him. “Yuri.”

“Hm?”

“Can I… ask you something?”

Yuri glanced over at him. “Sure. Knock yourself out.”

“When did you tell your grandfather?”

“You mean when did I come out to him?” Yuri asked.

Otabek nodded.

Yuri thought on it. “I mean… keep in mind, I grew up with  _ Victor _ , so I didn’t really… repress a lot of my crushes on other boys as a kid, so I figure he always knew. But I guess I told him that I was  _ bi _ a few years ago, and it was a non-issue. Just, y’know, said he loved and supported me and just wanted me to be happy.” He shrugged. “I mean, I know I’m really lucky to have him. I’m not  _ stupid _ . Even Mila’s family took a while to get used to it, and she’s one of the lucky ones, too.”

Otabek leaned back against the wall and sighed.

“You’re free to adopt him, if you want. Mila has, and her family’s fine. Keep in mind, though, if you eat everything he puts in front of you, you  _ will _ get fat.”

Otabek snorted. “That’s a fair trade-off.”

“...Have you ever seen the Rugrats Chanukah special?” Yuri asked. “It’s Plisetsky required watching.”

“I can’t say that I have? Maybe when I was little…”

“We’re watching it.” Yuri put his computer aside and dove off of his bed to grab his 100 CD case, which he used for DVDs. He flipped through until he found it. He put it in his DVD drive, made sure his charger was close by, and settled back in next to Otabek. “There’s the Passover special, too.”

“I can’t believe the badass punk Yuri Plisetsky has the Rugrats Chanukah special on DVD,” Otabek teased.

“And the Passover special. And the Fievel movies. Look, there really aren’t a lot of Jewish kids’ movies. I got attached.”

“I think it’s  _ cute _ .”

Yuri elbowed him. “Shut the fuck up and watch.”

* * *

After the credits started to roll, Yuri turned to Otabek. “What did you think?”

“I liked it,” Otabek said. “Even though something tells me it wasn’t strictly historically accurate.”

“Historical accuracy is overrated,” Yuri said.

“I’m looking for an apartment in Philly,” Otabek said. “For the summer.”

“Wow, you… really don’t want to go back to California.”

“I don’t,” Otabek agreed. “And my parents have agreed to pay for an apartment for me, which I… didn’t anticipate, I’ll be honest.”

“That’s decent of them.”

“And I’m getting a car.”

“That’s useful around here,” Yuri admitted. “Philly itself is fine, and you  _ can _ get most places with SEPTA, but it’ll take forever.”

“Right,” Otabek agreed. “I definitely realised that this semester.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, if you need rides anywhere… or somewhere to hang out where Victor won’t bother you…”

“Well,” Yuri said, “he’ll probably be busy with his new boyfriend, but I’ll keep that in mind.” A thought occurred to Yuri. Otabek was being really nice to him – like,  _ really _ nice. “Otabek?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t… take this the wrong way… but do you have friends at Penn?”

Otabek got a strange look on his face. “Of course I have friends. I know maybe it’s a little strange that I like spending time with a high school student, but I  _ do _ consider you a friend, too.”

“It’s just… with everything you said about your family…”

“Don’t worry,” Otabek said. “I have  _ friends _ , Yuri. Right now, most of them are with their families.”

“Good,” Yuri said. “Because even I have friends. And if you didn’t… that’d just be sad.”

Otabek laughed. “Yeah. It would.”

* * *

Mickey, as it turned out, had found his way to Emil’s house, and while  _ he _ wasn’t talking about it, the implications were clear to Yuri. And to the rest of the school. Break wasn’t even over and it was already all over MySpace.

Mila had come over the day after Christmas to talk about it. She, after all, had something of an inside source. “So, right, Sara called  _ all _ of Mickey’s friends in the city…”

“Couldn’t have taken long,” Yuri said with a snort.

“Well, no, but that’s beside the point. Emil didn’t answer the phone. Somehow Mickey got on the bus and got to Emil’s house… and so Emil answers the door all confused, and Mickey kisses him! Just like that!”

“Bet Emil’s thrilled.”

“Oh, he is. And, of course, this stays between us… and Otabek I guess,” Mila said, glancing up at the top bunk.

Yuri shrugged. “He’s reading. Besides, it’s not like he knows anyone at our school.”

“Okay,” Mila said, accepting this easily enough. “So  _ Sara _ says they’re dating. Like, officially. It wasn’t just some dumb spur of the moment thing. She said Mickey’s been thinking about it for a while.”

“Did he not realise we all  _ knew _ ?”

“Apparently not,” Mila said. “I mean, and of course, they’re  _ secretly _ dating, because Sara and Mickey’s parents… you know. So I don’t know if they’ll be open about it at school, but it’s  _ definitely _ happening.”

“Well,” Yuri said. “Guess I owe you five bucks.”

“And I’ve come to collect!” Mila said cheerfully.

Yuri grumbled and found his wallet. As he handed the five dollar bill over to Mila, he said, “I hope this means Mickey stops being such an ass.”

“Me too,” Mila said.

“You know, you probably shouldn’t be betting on other people’s sexualities,” Otabek said from the top bunk.   


“We didn’t bet on his  _ sexuality _ ,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. As if he’d ever do that. “We all knew he was gay. Mila thought he and Emil would actually get together, and I thought there was no chance in hell. If he’d dated some stupid jock instead, I’d have won.”

Mila laughed. “Holy shit, could you imagine Mickey with JJ Leroy? Fuck, that would make everyone miserable.”

“I prefer not to spend any of my time thinking about Jean-Jackass Leroy, thanks.” Yuri remembered something Victor had told him. “Vitya said he has an old man’s name, though.”

Mila grinned. “That’s amazing.”

“Isn’t it? And  _ speaking _ of Victor,” Yuri said. “I have solved our problems.”

“You didn’t do  _ anything _ ,” Otabek said. “They’d already met at the staff Christmas party.”

“He’s just bitter that now he has to take me to Warped Tour,” Yuri said dismissively. “He lost a bet.”

Mila’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh.”

“Anyway yeah it’s my neighbor. The only problem is his name is Yuuri, too, so Victor’s been calling me Yura for the past two days straight. And I told him to come over and meet Victor. And I’m  _ telling you _ ,” he said up to Otabek, “The Other Yuri had no idea who Victor was. I bet he got so drunk he forgot.”

“Well,” Mila said. “Are they actually together?”

“Yes,” Yuri said. “Even Otabek agrees.”

“They’ve both been over together every day since,” Otabek said, “I find it hard to imagine they’d do that if they weren’t  _ dating _ .”

“And Victor introduced him as his soulmate, which, gross, but, y’know. Victor.”

“Now we just need to set  _ you _ up!” Mila announced.

Yuri glared at her. “No fucking way. Like I said, I  _ don’t date high schoolers _ .”

“You don’t date  _ anyone _ .” To Yuri’s abject horror, Mila turned to Otabek. “Otabek, I bet you dated in high school! Tell him he’s being ridiculous.”

“I’ve never been on a date,” Otabek said. 

“ _ What _ ?” Mila asked. “So now we have to set  _ both of you _ up.”

“Drop it, Mila,” Yuri said. “I have high standards, and who the hell would you even set Otabek up with?”   


Mila’s expression told him that she already had a few ideas, but she sighed. “ _ Fine _ , Yurachka, but I’m not letting you graduate a virgin.”

“Isn’t that my choice?” Yuri asked. “Besides, I’m a sophomore. I’ve got two and a half years.”

“There are literally like twenty universities and colleges within an hour’s drive of here,” Mila said. “Neither of you exactly have a shortage of options.”

“I’ll take you out of my Top Eight,”[3] Yuri said. “I’ll put Mickey in your place.”

Mila glared at him. “Fine. I’ll stop.”

Otabek laughed, and Yuri turned to glare at him. “Yes?”

“You still use MySpace?”

“Sorry we’re not boring like you.”

“It’s okay,” Otabek said. “I’ll help you set up a Facebook.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Warped Tour is a multiartist punk tour with several stages that most of my friends got to go to at some point but I never did. It was always a big thing with which artists would be there, and who in our group would be going. ([Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warped_tour)) [return to text]  
> 2 Italian for "grandmother". For some reason, even if their family has been here for two hundred years, every single Italian American I've ever met insists on referring to their grandmother this way. [return to text]  
> 3 Back in the old days when MySpace was big (and even in 2008 when it was waning), you organized your friends (and also bands you followed) based on how much you liked them. The Top Eight was a statement, and friendships were lost over removing someone from it. (You could also expand it to 16 iirc, and I know you could reduce it to four). Yuri's Top Eight, at this point, ftr, is: Mila, My Chemical Romance, Say Anything, Seung-Gil, Sara, Emil, Rise Against, and Fall Out Boy. [return to text]  
> 


	6. A New Project

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri decides to take the new transfer student from Canada, Isabella Yang, under his wing.

When they went back to school after break, Yuri was already fed up with Happy Victor. It turned out Happy Victor was just as clingy as Depressed Victor, only he was much more disgusting and paraded his annoying boyfriend around. Who was, apparently, Celestino’s replacement. What the actual  _ fuck _ . Yuri couldn’t even get away from this shit at school.

At least he got to see all of his friends at school. Coordinating plans during break had been a headache, to say the least.

That wasn’t to mention that they came back from break just to sit through midterms. The idea was, of course, that they’d manage to study during break, and they had a week of review. Yuri wasn’t necessarily going to bitch about a week of half-days the following week, but if Victor didn’t give him a good grade, he’d be pissed.

There was a new girl in his Civics class, which was something that sparked his attention. Ms. Park called her to the front of the room, and introduced her. “This is Isabella Yang.”

Isabella Yang said hello to the class, and Yuri had to admit, she was pretty. 

“She’s just transferred here,” Ms. Park continued as if that weren’t obvious. “So I trust for the next week we have this class, you’ll all treat her with the same respect and kindness you do for each other.”

Yuri rolled his eyes.

“You can sit down next to Yuri over there,” Ms. Park said, pointing to the (carefully curated) empty seat next to Yuri. Fucking fantastic. At least it’d only be a week.

Isabella awkwardly walked over to Yuri’s desk cluster and sat down next to him. “Hello. I have the same t-shirt at home.”

Yuri looked down to his shirt; it was one of his favourites. He’d put it on for the first day after break as a way to help himself cope. It was a gray My Chemical Romance t-shirt for The Black Parade, in a sort of horror show fashion. He was wearing red skinny jeans along with it, mostly to show off his awesome new Doc Marten 1914s. At least Victor was good for something.

“I just wore this because… well, my mother thought it would be a good idea.”

Yuri looked over Isabella’s clothes. Boring; a black v-neck t-shirt under a hot pink zip-up hoodie, and denim skinny jeans. Nothing Abercrombie or American Eagle or anything awful like that, so maybe she was salvageable.

“It’s not…  _ terrible _ ,” Yuri said.

“So, uh,” Isabella continued as Ms. Park started the review session. “What can you tell me about my classes?” She slid her schedule toward him.

Yuri looked them over. She was, for some reason, signed up for a science elective (gross), health… “You’re taking Algebra II?” he asked.

Isabella nodded.

“We have fourth through sixth together. Then you have French with Nikiforov – he’s my cousin; just talk about how much you love Paris and he’s fine. It doesn’t look like you have any of the  _ shitty _ teachers… except for gym, but all gym teachers are shitty.”

“Okay, thanks,” Isabella said. “And your name…”

“Russian. My parents were born in the Soviet Union; my grandpa came over with my mom and aunt when they were little.”

Isabella nodded. “My grandpa’s from China,” she said. “But he married a Canadian woman.”

“Yuri Plisetsky.”

Yuri shot up. Ms. Park was looking at him sternly. “As much as I appreciate you being nice to Miss Yang, you have a final a week from tomorrow, and you’d do well to pay attention.”

“Sorry,” he grumbled. Once Ms. Park’s back was turned, he scribbled a note to Isabella. 

We’ll talk after class. Here’s my number.

He scribbled that down next to it, and passed it over to Isabella, who read it and nodded. After class, he even smiled at her. “See you in Algebra.”

 

* * *

In French, Victor was ridiculous, as always, and actually rambled on for the entire forty-five minute period about his “amazing, beautiful, talented” new boyfriend. Yuri wanted to hurl. 

“At least it was mostly in French?” Mila said afterward as they were packing up. 

“I had to hear that in English all break. And you’re just lucky you missed ‘oh  _ my _ Yuuri was the best birthday present I could ask for!’” He adopted a falsetto voice for Victor, and Mila laughed. 

“Hey, I’m not the one who has to deal with him at home, too.”

“I didn’t  _ used to _ ! It’s now that he’s dating The Other Yuri he’s always over. You’d think it would get rid of  _ both _ of them, but no. They’re both over. All the time.”

“And you don’t even have Otabek to distract you here,” Mila tsked.

“What are you implying, Mila?”

Mila scoffed. “He still looks at you like he used to. And he’s hot.”

Yuri shoved her, although not hard enough to actually cause her any pain. “I’m going to Art.”

“I’m just telling you the truth!”

Yuri flipped her off, ignored Victor’s scolding, and skulked down to art. Emil was in an even better mood than Yuri could ever remember seeing him. Yuri waffled about whether or not to tell him he knew. He decided against it. He didn’t want to hear about how great Emil thought Mickey was any more than he already had to. Honestly, he didn’t know how Emil managed to have such shitty taste in guys.

After art, Yuri steeled himself to deal with Jean-Jackass Leroy loudly talking about his giant, Catholic family and giant, Catholic Christmas celebration, but when he got in the room, he saw Isabella. Right. He wouldn’t have to endure Jean-Jackass alone anymore. He sat down next to Isabella.

“So before this class starts, I should probably warn you about JJ.”

“JJ?” Isabella repeated.

Yuri nodded. “You’ll recognise him right away because he’s got shitty Edward Cullen hair[1] and is louder than the rest of the school combined. He’s a jock; plays lacrosse or field hockey or some bullshit like that. Strictly speaking, he’s not a bully or anything, but he  _ is  _ fucking insufferable.”

Isabella nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“He’s like… an overgrown six-year-old: annoying as all fuck, loud, and doesn’t know how to tell when he’s annoying. Or maybe he doesn’t care. He thinks he’s the most popular guy in the school but everyone actually hates him.”

“That’s… kind of sad?” Isabella said.

“I mean, he has  _ friends _ ,” Yuri said. God forbid Isabella start to  _ pity _ that asshole. “Leo de la Iglesia and Guang-Hong Ji at least actually like him, but they’re both jocks, too. I mean, I guess neither of them are that bad,” Yuri said. “But they’re jocks and hang out with JJ, so avoid on principle.”

“This is a really international school, isn’t it?” Isabella asked.

“I dunno about  _ that _ ,” Yuri said. “But there are a lot of immigrants in this area. Most of us were raised in America, at least. If the Crispinos claim they’re Italian… their family came over in the eighteen hundreds.”

Isabella nodded. “Okay.”

“I mean,” Yuri said, “I  _ guess _ my mom could’ve anglicised my name, but then I’d be named George and what kind of shitty name is that? But then… my grandpa said she named me Yuri because she liked the Hebrew name Uri. So. Maybe it’d be something else.”

“Hebrew?” Isabella asked.

“Yeah, I’m Jewish,” Yuri said. “So’s Victor, y’know, maternal cousins and all.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Isabella said.

Yuri shrugged. “I guess. It’s all normal for me.”

JJ entered the room at that moment and Yuri instinctively buried his head in his hands. Unfortunately, today of all days, it didn’t work. “Plisetsky! Hey!” JJ called, honest to god jogging over.

“What do you want, JJ?” Yuri asked.

“I was just saying hello, sheesh.” And then, Yuri saw JJ’s expression change when he caught sight of Isabella. “Hello,” he greeted. “I’m JJ Leroy.”

“Isabella Yang.”

“Isabella,” Yuri hissed.

“Pleasure to meet you,” JJ said, ignoring Yuri. “If you have any questions… I’m a junior and I’m captain of the lacrosse team and I’m friends with pretty much everyone, so feel free to ask me! I love to help out.”

“Thanks,” Isabella said. “Everyone here’s been really nice so far.”

“That’s good! I don’t really think we  _ have _ cliques or anything like that here,” JJ said. Honestly, what the fuck was he  _ on _ ? No cliques? What bullshit! “Everyone pretty much gets along with everyone, y’know? And I, personally, think that’s great! You know, in movies and everything there’s always the asshole jock and the lonely nerd and I just feel like that totally misses the point? I try to be nice to everyone, at least, and my friends do the same.”

“That’s good?” Isabella said. 

Yuri wanted to die. This was hell. JJ Leroy two feet away, not shutting up, and shouting the whole time because fucking JJ didn’t know how to speak at a normal volume. And, in a rare stroke of luck, the bell ran just as JJ opened his mouth again.

Mercifully, JJ took that as a sign to go sit down at his seat on the other side of the classroom. Yuri heaved a sigh of relief.

“So  _ that _ ’s JJ, huh?” Isabella asked.

“Unfortunately.”

* * *

Yuri went down to lunch with Isabella. “You can sit with us,” he said. “But I just need to find Mila and let her know.”

Isabella nodded, so Yuri wormed his way to the front of the line where he knew Mila would be.

“How was Math?”

“I think we have a new project,”  Yuri said. “I know the last one didn’t  _ quite _ work out like we’d wanted, but this one… there’s a new girl, and JJ was all over her, and she has decent taste in music… we could probably take her under our wing and make her  _ cool _ .”

Mila hummed. “Could work, but Yurachka, I need to ask you something.”

Yuri shrugged. “Sure, go ahead.”

“You’re not doing some ridiculous thing where, like, you try to make this girl over so you could date her, right?” Mila asked. “You said no high school  _ boys _ . But…”

Yuri rolled her eyes. “Like, okay, she’s hot, sure, but again: I don’t date  _ high schoolers _ .”

“You just want to piss JJ off.”

“So what if I do? Our group could use some new blood.”

“We’ll see how everyone likes her at lunch,” Mila said, shrugging. “But if we do this, you can’t date her.”

“I know that,” Yuri snapped. 

Mila got her chicken quesadilla from the line, and Yuri grabbed his, too. “I’ll hang back and let her know.”

“I’ll save you both seats,” Mila said, heading to their table.

Yuri gave her a thumbs up and stood off to the side, waiting for Isabella. When she came by, looking confused, Yuri nodded at her. “Mila said it’s okay, but then the lunch lady shoved a tray at me, so you can just… come with me.”

“Great,” Isabella said.

Yuri led her to their table and pointed out the different cliques along the way. “So JJ said there are no cliques and that’s bullshit. Maybe they’re not as strict as in the movies, but they exist.” He nodded to one table. “That’s the rednecks. We’re above the Mason-Dixon line but these assholes still think the South should have won.”

“Gross.”

“Right? So avoid them at all costs.” He nodded to a long table. “Those are the band geeks. They’re… okay, I guess. Emil kind of hangs out with them sometimes, and some of them can be cool.” He nodded to another table not far away. “Theatre kids. I’m of the opinion that all actors are liars and assholes, but that’s not something most of my friends share. They’d all kill each other for the lead role in a play and they’re all fucking weird. Georgi’s asshole girlfriend is a theatre kid. Georgi’s such a desperate poser that he tries to be a theatre kid on top of trying to be a punk.”

Isabella snorted. “He sounds like a mess.”

“He is! He had a phase last year where he insisted he was a witch, of all fucking things!” Oh, he liked Isabella. She was perfectly bitchy. She’d fit in great. Yuri indicated yet another table. “And those are the jocks. You can see JJ and his friends Leo and Guang-Hong being loud and obnoxious.”

“JJ seemed nice,” Isabella said. “And he’s pretty cute.”

_ What the fuck _ ? “No, no, no, no,” Yuri said. “No. No respectable person actually dates a jock. It’s all well and good to loiter at a school game and sneak booze under the bleachers, but actually  _ dating _ a jock?” Yuri shook his head. “NO way.”

“Uh, sure,” Isabella said.

“Look, JJ  _ seems _ nice, but he’s really the most obnoxious human being in the world. He was the class clown for years, but he’s been even worse since he actually became a jock.”

“I get it,” Isabella said. “So who  _ is _ acceptable to date?”

Yuri pointed to their table. “The punks. Now, Mila and Sara are together… and, well, let’s just say Mickey and Emil are off-limits. Georgi, as I’ve said, has his dumb theatre kid girlfriend. But… there is Seung-Gil?”

“And your girlfriend? Or boyfriend?”

Yuri laughed. “No. I don’t date high schoolers. I have high standards.”

They reached the table, and Yuri sat down next to Mila. “This is Isabella. She’s new, and she’s going to be a part of our group,” he said.

Isabella sat down next to him. “Hi,” she said. 

Emil grinned. “Welcome! Where are you from? I’m from Ohio, originally, but I’ve lived here for five years.”

“I’m from Toronto,” Isabella said. “My dad got a new job in Philadelphia, so…” she shrugged.

“That’s cool!” Emil said. “I’m Emil, by the way, and this gorgeous guy right here is Mickey – he’s almost an ultra-local, only he’s from South Philly.”

Mickey actually  _ blushed _ . Well, at least he wasn’t bitching about it. That was a pleasant change. 

“And this is Mickey’s sister, Sara, and her girlfriend Mila. Mila’s also Yuri’s best friend in the whole world, so you’ll probably see her more than any of the rest of us.”

“We Russians have to stick together,” Mila said. “That’s all.”

“Please,” Yuri snorted. “I bet you anything your ancestors tried to kill mine.”

“And mine,” Emil said. “But it’s okay, because we all love you, Mila.” Emil turned back to Isabella. “Seung-Gil should be here, soon, and… Georgi’s probably with his girlfriend, Anya, and the other theatre kids.”

“It’s… nice to meet you all.”

“I’m just glad I won’t be the new kid anymore,” Mickey grumbled.

“You could’ve always told us about the bars in the city that don’t ID,” Mila singsonged. “That’s part of why we love Sara so much.”

“Well,” said Isabella, “If you’re ever in Toronto, I can tell you about a few places… but I’m afraid I don’t know much about Philadelphia.”   


“We’ve got you; don’t worry,” Mila said. “There’s not much around here, but we can always loiter at the movie theatre with water bottles filled with vodka.”

“And don’t forget the…  _ herbal refreshment _ ,” Emil added. “That’s  _ very _ important.”

“Well, with Nikiforov around, I wasn’t sure…”

Yuri jerked a thumb toward the other side of the cafeteria, where Victor was  _ definitely _ not doing his job as lunch monitor, and instead was flirting with his boyfriend.

“Yeah, when did that happen?” Emil asked. “Mr. Katsuki just started, and they’re already dating?”

“Yuri set them up!” Mila announced proudly. “Well, mostly. They met at the Christmas party, but Yuri made sure Katsuki went over for Chanukah one night.”

“Look, Victor even  _ said _ that Katsuki said he didn’t remember. So, yeah, it’s all due to me. And now fucking Otabek has to take me to Warped Tour.”

“Otabek?” Isabella asked.

“Yuri’s boyfriend.”

“He’s  _ not _ my boyfriend,” Yuri insisted. Honestly, the fucking idea was ridiculous. “He’s a pretentious ass.”

“Yuri,” Mila said, “I’m… kind of concerned that you might not realise this is a date. And if  _ he’d _ won you’d go to the inauguration with him.”

“Mila’s a meddler,” Yuri said to Isabella. “And a liar, apparently. Otabek’s a family friend, basically. He goes to Penn. And he’s a pretentious ass.”

“He’s hot, though,” Mila said.

Emil nodded in agreement. “He is.”

“He’s trying to look like the first-ever Asian Beatle, so… no,” Yuri said. Although, okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true when he thought about it. But why would he think about it? It was  _ Otabek _ . “His family’s loaded, though.”

Mila played with his hair. “Yurachka, the sooner you accept that you’ll marry him one day, the better it’ll be on all of us.”

“Fuck off, hag,” Yuri spat. “I’m not interested in  _ Otabek _ of all people.” Otabek was pretentious, and obnoxious, and interested in  _ politics _ , and he was probably a fucking  _ Hufflepuff _ which everyone knew was the worst fucking house in Hogwarts. Sure, okay, maybe he didn’t  _ hate _ Otabek, but he’d still never  _ date _ him.

“Fine, fine,” Mila said in a tone which implied that she would never fucking drop it.

Yuri rolled his eyes and turned to Isabella. “They’re trying to be obnoxious.”

Seung-Gil came to the table then and sat in the (strategically empty) seat next to Isabella.

“Seung-Gil!” Sara said. “This is Isabella! She’s new!”

Seung-Gil barely nodded, but the important thing was that he  _ did _ nod. 

“From Seung-Gil that’s like a hug,” Yuri muttered.

Isabella laughed. “It’s okay.”

* * *

In their last class of the day, photography, Yuri turned to Mila. “So what’s your verdict?”

“As long as you don’t date her, sure. We can take her to the Hot Topic in Springfield,” Mila said. “Although first, I guess, we should see her wardrobe. But she really needs to do something about her hair… it’s so… normal.”

Yuri nodded. “I’m not looking for a girlfriend, anyway.  _ Or _ boyfriend,” he added at Mila’s look.

“Whatever you say, Yurachka,” Mila hummed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 You can see an example [here](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pcpKTz-zGok/Sbi6QUclUZI/AAAAAAAACXM/_9oFc0an7RY/s400/edward.jpg) if you were lucky enough not to know what "Edward Cullen hair" means. I was trying to find a hairstyle for JJ since an undercut in 08 would have been way too edgy for him, and I realised the perfect trend: that ridiculous pompadour that RPattz had in Twilight that seemingly half the straight bros wanted. Did they think it would turn them into RPattz? Maybe. Who knows? [return to text]  
> 


	7. Manic Panic Hair Dye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Mila take Isabella to the mall and give her a makeover.

Mila cornered Isabella after school and offered her a ride. Yuri even let her sit in the passenger’s seat. “So,” Mila said once she’d started driving. “We’ve decided to let you in our group, but that means you should… y’know, fit in with us.”

“And what, exactly, does that entail?”

Mila shrugged. “Well, first… getting you some new clothes. We can look at your wardrobe first to see how much will work. And then we’re gonna go to Hot Topic. We need to at least _style_ your hair, but if you can get away with cutting it, that’d be even better.”

“I don’t think my parents would _freak_ ,” Isabella said. “As long as it’s not too drastic.”

Mila grinned. “ _Great_!”

Yuri kind of wanted to tell Isabella what she’d just gotten herself into, but this was infinitely more fun. They stopped by Isabella’s house, where Yuri and Mila deemed her wardrobe mostly passable, and then went to Springfield Mall.

Springfield Mall was… kind of shitty, compared to King of Prussia and even to Christiana,[1] but it was the closest mall, and it had a Hot Topic. So, for today at least, it met their needs. Mila parked by the entrance closest to the Hot Topic, and the three of them went in.

Mila led them up the escalator and straight to Hot Topic. She went straight for the hair dye. “Your hair’s dark, but we can go darker.” She shoved a container of blue-black hair dye into Isabella’s arms. “And some streaks would be cool, so bleach… and what’s your favorite color?”

Isabella examined the containers of Manic Panic hair dye. “I like the teal.”

“Teal it is!” Mila said, handing her the container. “Red’s _my_ signature color, anyway.”

Yuri grabbed some eyeliner for himself in different colors while Isabella looked at the makeup.

“We should get you some clothes, too,” Yuri said. “Your clothes at home are mostly okay, but you could always do with some more.”

Isabella nodded and smiled. “Thanks, guys. This is really cool of you. You know, all of my friends back in Toronto were so _straight_?”

“Are you straight?” Mila asked, one eyebrow raised. “It’s fine if you are; Georgi is and… well Yuri hates him for _other_ reasons.”

“He’s a fucking poser piece of shit,” Yuri said. “On top of the stupid theatre bullshit.”

“Oh, no,” Isabella said. “I’m _definitely_ bi.”

Mila and Yuri exchanged looks. “Good,” Yuri said. “You’ll fit in even better, then. Most of us are bi. Well, Mickey’s _definitely_ gay. And so’s Sara.”

“They’re twins, though. I think that’s a thing?” Mila said.

“Sounds like a thing,” Yuri said.

They helped Isabella pick out new clothes, jewellery, and makeup, and when they were satisfied with their purchases, they checked out.

“I want ice cream,” Yuri said. “Let’s go to Friendly’s before we leave.”

So they did. Yuri ordered a chocolate-peanut butter monstrosity of a sundae, Mila got two scoops of cotton candy ice cream, and Isabella got a Jim Dandy.[2]

“Knew I liked you for a reason,” Yuri said.

Isabella grinned. “I know what I want, and I go for it.”

“So, listen,” Yuri said, “You’ve got something going for you that no one else in school has.”

“Oh,” Isabella said, smiling. “I’m not a virgin.”

Yuri pulled a face. “I _meant_ mystery,” he said. “Which is good, because you could have any guy or girl in the whole school… especially with Mila and I by your side.”

“Well,” Mila said, “any of the straight or bi guys, and any of the not-straight girls.”

“Right,” Yuri said. “But still. And, of course, you don’t have to date anyone. I don’t date high schoolers.”

“ _You_ don’t date anyone,” Mila countered.

“But I _don’t date high schoolers_ . And there are a lot of universities in the area, so there’s no shortage of college students, if that’s your thing. Like I said, I have a family friend who goes to Penn, and he can definitely get us into some parties.” Or, at least, he _thought_ Otabek could get them into some parties. Maybe, though, he just spent all of his time locked in his dorm room with his books.

“Seung-Gil’s single,” Mila said. “He’s an option.”

Yuri nodded. “Yeah. He’d probably be the best option for you if you want to date a high school boy.”

“I’ll think about it,” Isabella said.

After they finished their ice cream, they all went back to Yuri’s apartment because Mila’s parents were definitely home by that point, and they’d hover. Yuri’s grandfather had a late shift today, and even if he were there, he wouldn’t hover.

When they got in, Pyotya wasn’t there to greet them. “Asshole cat’s probably sleeping,” Yuri muttered.

“Uh, Yura,” Mila said nodding toward the couch in the living room… which was currently occupied by none other than Otabek Altin. Pyotya, the traitor, was snoozing comfortably on Otabek’s stomach.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Figured he’d be out. It’s okay, he won’t do anything but snark.” He cleared his throat. “Otabek. This is Isabella; we’re giving her a makeover.”

To someone who didn’t know Otabek well, they wouldn’t really see how his expression changed, but Yuri saw it.

“Isabella,” Yuri said. “ _This_ is Otabek. He’s avoiding his parents during winter break.”

Otabek turned back to his book, but Yuri was sure he’d get bitched at later. “Anyway,” Yuri said. “We can go to my room.” He led them through the living room, down the hallway, and into his room, which was considerably more crowded than normal. Fortunately, he’d been throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper since Otabek had started staying with them, so it wasn’t too messy. Otabek’s suitcase laid neatly in the corner, but he did have haphazard piles of books all over.

“Otabek’s staying here, too,” Mila said in a stage whisper. “On the top bunk, and Yuri expects me to believe that nothing’s happened.”

Yuri flipped her off and shut the door. “Nothing _has_ happened. And nothing will. I’m telling you; I’m not interested in him, and he’s not interested in me.”

“Sure, Yuri,” Mila said. “And I’m not interested in Sara.”

“Uh, so, makeover?” Isabella asked.

“Yes!” Yuri exclaimed, grateful for the distraction. “Makeover! We’ll do your hair first… let me get an old t-shirt from my dresser…” He dug through and found and old black t-shirt that had probably once been Victor’s (because it was way too big to have ever been purchased for Yuri) and tossed it to Isabella.

“I’m really the expert at cutting hair, and Mila’s the expert at dyeing,” Yuri said. “Let’s look for a good hairstyle for you.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Isabella’s hair was cut and the dye left to set, so they went out to the living room to watch television. Otabek was actually watching a news channel, what the actual fuck? Yuri wrestled the remote from his hands (without much actual struggle from Otabek) and put on Nickelodeon.

“ _Really_?” Otabek said.

“Really,” Yuri answered.

Otabek rolled his eyes and grabbed a book from the pile next to the couch.

“Don’t you wanna know what we’re doing with Isabella’s hair?” Yuri asked.

“I think I’d rather be surprised.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Yuri huffed.

“Speaking of no fun,” Otabek said, “I still do have an extra ticket to the inauguration.”

“Again: three hours in a car with you each way just to stand outside in a packed crowd in the middle of fucking January? No thanks.”

“Yurachka,” Mila whined. “You should _go_ . It’ll be, like, historic. Besides… I bet if you _don’t_ go with Otabek, then Victor will drag you over to his apartment for a viewing party, and I, for one, think sitting in a car with Otabek for a total of six hours only to stand outside in a giant crowd would be miles better than watching Victor cry and cling to his new boyfriend. Besides, you _know_ Giacometti will be there, too.”

Yuri blanched. “I forgot about Giacometti…”

“So I noticed,” Mila said. “I dunno, Obama actually seems to think that gay and bi people are _human_ , and Victor definitely rambled on about how great this was back after elections.”

“In a high school class?” Otabek asked.

“You’ve met Victor, right?” Yuri asked. “Today he rambled on for forty-five minutes about the love of his life, Katsuki.”

Otabek’s eyebrows shot up – or, well, more like raised infinitesimally, but with Otabek that was as good as shooting up.

“He’s got a BA in French language from Columbia and an MA in French literature from the Sorbonne. He could do pretty much anything; they’re just thrilled someone so overqualified is there.”

“That’s true,” Mila agreed.

“He did that in my class, too,” Isabella said. “Talked about his boyfriend. Mostly in English, though.”

“You know,” Yuri said, “he used to be a male model. That’s how he was able to stay in Paris so long. He did runway shows for Gucci and Versace and shit.”

“He mentioned that,” Isabella said.

Of course he had. Victor was a dick. “But, seriously, don’t let his demeanor fool you. Victor is really fucking smart.”

Otabek snorted.

“ _What_?”

“You say that like you’re not,” Otabek said.

Yuri didn’t have to look at her to know that Mila was giving him some significant look. “Well, I’m not going to Columbia.”

“He went to the same high school you’re going to. You think your grandfather hasn’t proudly told me how good your grades are?” He rolled his eyes. “You and Victor both have these images you try to project that downplay how smart you both are.”

“Some people don’t like being pretentious assholes.”

“I mean,” Mila said, “you _are_ taking a junior-level math class, and all honors…”

“You,” Yuri said, pointing to Mila, “are the devil.”

“You’re _Jewish_ ,” Mila said. “You don’t believe in the devil.”

“Fuck off, Mila,” Yuri grumbled.

“So,” Otabek said, “was that a yes to the inauguration?”

Yuri heaved a sigh. “Only if Victor is actually having a party.”

* * *

When Yuri’s grandfather came home for dinner, Isabella looked like a different person. Her hair had been cut in layers and teased out, Yuri had cut bangs for her, which Mila had bleached and streaked with teal. Mila had also given her teal raccoon tails underneath the rest of her hair, which was now dyed blue-black.

She wore some of the clothes she’d gotten from Hot Topic, and Yuri, for one, was proud of his efforts. Of course, there was still more to go, but it looked like Isabella would fit in just fine.

When they left Yuri’s room, Otabek was still on the couch.

“Look!” Yuri said. “Impressive, right?”

Otabek looked up and glanced over at Isabella. “Sure,” he said. “I’m making dinner tonight, by the way.”

Yuri frowned. “What about Ded?”

“He’s fine. I just thought I’d help pay him back for letting me stay here rent-free for almost a month.”

“Oh,” Yuri said, unsure of how to feel about that. “That’s… really nice, actually.”

“Don’t worry,” Otabek said, “I _can_ actually cook.”

“So what’s for dinner?” Yuri asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

Yuri rolled his eyes; he knew what that meant. The asshole hadn’t figured out what he was cooking himself yet.

“Well,” Mila said, “in about ten minutes, my mom’s gonna be on my ass about being home for dinner, so I’m gonna head home. You need a ride, Bella?”

“That’d be great,” Isabella said. “Thanks.” She turned to Yuri. “Thanks so much. I’ll text you!”

“Definitely,” Yuri said. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mila hugged him goodbye (which was, really, just a privilege that Mila and Victor had), and he waved goodbye to Isabella. Once they were safely out the door, he turned to Otabek. “You can start bitching at me now.”

“I’m not going to _bitch_ at you.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. It was a move that had taken a lot of practise, but it was absolutely worth it at moments like this.

“Although…” There it was. “Do any of your friends besides Mila have any idea that you’re actually _good_ at school?”

Yuri shrugged. “They know what classes I’m in, and sometimes they see my test grades if we have class together. I dunno. Like, some of them aren’t great at school, and I don’t want them to feel bad for not being as smart as me.”

“Your grandfather said you were ranked first in your class.”

Yuri grumbled. His grandfather was right, but that was _embarrassing_. “Look,” Yuri said. “My grandpa doesn’t exactly have a huge savings to fall back on when he retires. I’m gonna need a good job, and sure Victor has family money from his dad and shit but… Victor and Ded are the only people who’ve always been there for me, and I want to make sure Ded’s okay, and as fucking annoying as Victor is, I don’t want it to be just his responsibility.”

“Wow, that’s… very mature of you,” Otabek said. “Kolya’s lucky to have you and Victor.”

“You know he moved here with his wife and daughter and he could barely speak English? Got a job at a grocery store bagging groceries and worked his way up to be the manager of the bakery. And Babushka died before I was even born. Like… he’s done nothing but work his ass off since he got here. He was an engineer in the Soviet Union.”

“An engineer?”

Yuri snorted. “That was pretty much all Jews could do there. Like things are shitty here, don’t get me wrong, but at least his passport here doesn’t have ‘Jew’ stamped on it. He can go to shul without any trouble. But it’s still not all that easy for him.” He shrugged. “I dunno. I just know that I have to do well in school. He won’t even let me get a part-time job to help out. Says I need to focus on school.”

“Well,” Otabek said. “You know… Ivies, if you get in as a low-income student, will often give you a full ride. One of my floormates is in that situation. They give him enough for tuition, housing, dining, and books.”

“Really?” Yuri asked. He hadn’t heard that before, and it definitely sounded fake, but why would Otabek lie to him about that?

“Yeah,” Otabek said. “Not a lot of low-income students apply, though, and even fewer get in. But I don’t think it’d be a problem for you.”

He realised that Otabek was complimenting him. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” He thought for a way to change the subject. “So… seriously, what’s for dinner?”

“You really want to know?”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Otabek shrugged. “Don’t really have a name for it. It’s kosher; I’m not sure if you actually keep kosher, but I know Kolya does.”

Yuri snorted. “I don’t. I mean, I don’t eat shellfish because I might be allergic, and I don’t want Ded finding out. But I don’t keep kosher.”

“Well, either way it’s… pareve? Parve?”[3]

“Either or,” Yuri said with a shrug. “Hebrew doesn’t really have vowel characters so how you pronounce the vowels can vary. Just make sure you use the pareve stuff,” he added. “That way it doesn’t get cross-contaminated. And if you’re using anything pre-packaged, make sure it’s certified kosher and pareve.”

“Uh, right,” Otabek said.

Yuri heaved a sigh that was mostly just being dramatic. “I’ll help. We do have a treyf[4] set somewhere if it’s not certified but… I really think it might be in storage in the basement. Ded will eat treyf sometimes,” he added. “As long as it’s not… _really_ treyf.”

“And what’s _really_ treyf?” Otabek asked.

“Dairy with meat, pork, shellfish. Like, he’ll eat stuff that isn’t certified as long as it’s prepared with the treyf set.”

“This is… a lot.”

“That’s why he usually cooks,” Yuri said. “I know most of the stuff, but I’ve… turned a few pans into treyf pans.”

“How do you… do that?”

“In my case, I accidentally put butter in the meat pan. Butter’s dairy, so…”

Otabek sighed. “I’m definitely going to need your help, then. Do you mind?”

“Well, two good deeds in a day is usually a bit beyond my limit… but why not? I’m feeling generous.”

* * *

The next day, Bella came with Mila to pick Yuri up. Otabek was still asleep, so Yuri tried to be as quiet as possible when he was leaving the room. Pyotya didn’t help. Mila and Bella were waiting on the couch in the living room when he got out of the bathroom, makeup ready.

Mila tossed him one of those delicious Tastykake lemon pies, and they headed out.

Yuri sat in the back seat again, because he figured it was worth being extra nic to Bella for at least the first week of their friendship. Besides, she was considerably taller than he was (he just hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, was all).

“We already swung by Wawa,” Mila said.

“I figured as much from the pie,” Yuri said. “Bella, are you ready to be the most mysterious girl in school?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Isabella said.

“I like your attitude.”

When they walked into the school, they attracted a lot more attention than Yuri was strictly used to. That was, of course, when Jean-Jackass Leroy came out of god knows where.

“Isabella!”

The girl actually _stopped_ for that fucking jackass.

“It’s JJ! Remember, from Algebra?”

“Oh, yeah,” Isabella said. “Hi.”

“Hey! You, uh… you look great!”

Isabella actually blushed, and Yuri knew what he had to do. He grabbed her elbow and said, “Oh, hey, look, our _friends_ are over there!” and led her away.

Georgi was being dramatic, as usual, but dealing with him was much better than dealing with JJ. Even though Georgi was poser trash, he wasn’t a fucking jock.

Mickey was actually being _affectionate_ with Emil, or, well, at least, he was letting Emil hang all over him. For Mickey, that was tantamount to a breakthrough.

Emil whistled when he saw Isabella. “That’s quite the transformation!”

Isabella grinned. “Thanks.”

“She looks great, doesn’t she, Seung-Gil?” Yuri said.

Seung-Gil looked impassive. Yuri took that for a good sign. He sighed loudly. “I’m not going to homeroom until I have to. Victor’s being extra gross.”

“That’s why I’m glad I have Karpisek,” Emil said. “He’s totally normal.”

“I don’t even know why they gave me Nikiforov,” Yuri grumbled. “He’s my cousin. I already see him enough. And now he’s dating my neighbor, so I’m sure he’ll be over all the fucking time.”

Mila patted his shoulder. “At least Otabek lives with you now.”

“He doesn’t _live with us_ . He’s staying with us because he didn’t want to go back to his shitty family during break. And my grandpa is too nice.” And, well, Yuri had to admit that Otabek’s family _seemed_ shitty. He knew that Victor’s achievements would be a lot to live up to, but his grandfather never once made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. And, really, he couldn’t fathom his family not accepting his sexuality.

So, honestly, he wasn’t going to bitch _too much_ about Otabek staying with them, because, really, he wouldn’t wish the alternative on fucking _JJ_. Even if he did have to share his bedroom. He only had two more weeks of that shit, anyway.

“But you don’t deny that Otabek being at your apartment all the time is a good thing.”

Yuri scowled at her. “His family’s shitty, and I wouldn’t wish staying with them on anyone. And he’s not _as_ bad as Victor. That’s not a high bar.”

“Whatever you say, Yurachka.”

Yuri flipped her off. “Fuck you.”

“So,” Sara said. “Changing the subject _entirely_. Some friends from the city are having a party this weekend. No parents. Lots of alcohol.”

“When?” Yuri asked. “I don’t think I can get out of shabbat services this week.”

“Saturday night,” Sara said with a shrug.

Yuri grinned. “All the better. We’ll come up with a plan.” He turned to Bella. “You should come over for Shabbat dinner though. Friday night.[5] Dedushka already wants to meet you.”

“Sure,” Isabella said.

“Yuri’s grandpa makes the _best_ food,” Mila said. “Totally worth regular Friday night plans.”

Yuri nodded in agreement.

“Okay,” Isabella said. “Sounds like a plan.”

“And Saturday… I’ll say I’m at Mila’s, Isabella and Mila can say they’re at my place – I’m sure I can get Otabek to cover if I need to…”

“I’ll say I’m at Mila’s,” Sara said.

“Mickey and Seung-Gil can both say they’re at my place! And I’ll say I’m over at Mickey’s!”

“Sounds good,” Yuri said. “I mean, we won’t need to worry about it too much.”

Mila nodded. “Yeah.”

Yuri looked from Isabella to Seung-Gil. It could work, he thought, but he probably could stand to be a bit more subtle this time around. Victor had been lonely and kind of desperate. Isabella was the perfect amount of bitchy and confident, and Seung-Gil rarely spoke to anyone, ever. Shoving them together would require precision, and a lot of thinking.

* * *

Friday night came, and Yuri went to shul with his grandfather, as usual. This time, Otabek came with them, although Yuri had no idea why – he’d made it pretty clear that, although he was a Muslim, he wasn’t particularly religious. (And even if he _were_ religious – why would he go to a synagogue?)

Yuri knew better than to grumble to his grandfather about it, but he claimed the front seat even though Otabek was a couple inches taller than he was. Otabek didn’t even complain.

Services were normal, Yuri supposed, but as the synagogue was mostly made up of congregants who were middle aged or older, they, for some ungodly reason, assumed that Otabek was Yuri’s boyfriend. Honestly, what the _fuck_?

Yuri adjusted his kippah[6] self-consciously at the nosh[7] when Mrs. Goldstein congratulated him on his “handsome new boyfriend”. “Uh,” Yuri said. “New boyfriend?”

“The young man who came with you and Kolya today.”

Yuri very nearly shouted _what the fuck_ , but managed to hold his tongue. “Uh, that’s not my boyfriend,” he said. “That’s Ded’s… ex-wife’s grandson.” Yuri glanced over to where Otabek was standing. “I mean, we’re friends, I guess, but he’s _not_ my boyfriend.”

Mrs. Goldstein apologised, and Yuri thought maybe that was it. Until five more people asked him about his “boyfriend”. He wanted to to scream that Otabek was _not_ his boyfriend, but he forced himself to bite his tongue. He didn’t want to embarrass his grandfather.

He did, however, grab his phone and text Mila about the whole thing. She was at the movie theatre with all of their friends, and didn’t reply. Fucking hag.

Fortunately, services were due to start, so he texted Isabella to remind her that they’d be picking her up in a little over an hour, and went inside. He sat down next to his grandfather, and Otabek sat down next to him.

“So, uh,” Otabek whispered in his ear, looking around. “Have people been asking you if we’re dating?”

Yuri groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“I didn’t realise that would be the assumption…”

Yuri rolled his eyes. He didn’t realise that either; he’d known that Otabek going to shul with him would be a bad idea, but he hadn’t anticipated that everyone would assume that they were dating. It was _Otabek_.

* * *

Yuri sat in the backseat on the way to pick up Isabella, letting Otabek sit up front, because he wasn’t about to subject her to _Otabek_ . They drove to Isabella’s house in relative peace, and Yuri was relieved to see that she was outside when they got there. She introduced herself to Yuri’s grandfather and Otabek, and got into the back seat. Yuri looked at her. She’d managed to make herself look fantastic every day that week, and Yuri had the best idea. A selfie. He’d make it his profile picture on MySpace and make sure that Seung-Gil saw it.

“Bella,” Yuri said. “Let’s take a selfie.”

“Sure,” Isabella said with a shrug.

Yuri pulled out his phone and took a selfie. “We can take a better one at home. And I have Dailybooth,[8] too.”

“Oh, _I_ have a Dailybooth, too!” Isabella said.

“Cool,” Yuri said. “We’ll take another picture when we get back to my place.”

And they did. Before dinner, they went into Yuri’s room and took a few pictures with his webcam. He found the best of them and posted it to MySpace, and made sure to set it as his profile picture. “So,” Yuri said in a conspiratorial whisper. Otabek was in the living room, giving them some space for once, but he couldn’t be too careful. “I think Seung-Gil’s interested in you.”

“He’s cute,” Isabella said. “And mysterious.”

Yuri clicked onto Seung-Gil’s profile. None of the pictures featured his face, but Bella had seen him before. “He doesn’t like photographs of himself for some reason.”

“Maybe he’s a vampire.”

“Maybe,” Yuri said. “...We’ll have to see if he goes into the house the party’s at tomorrow night without being invited in.”

“I could date a vampire,” Isabella said. “I bet I’d be good at staking them if I needed to.”

“I have complete faith in you,” Yuri said. He went back to his MySpace homepage and saw that he had a notification. Seung-Gil had commented on the picture!

 

“Shit, he definitely likes you,” Yuri said.

“Might as well go for it,” Isabella said. “He’s cute, and I could stand to get laid again.”

“He’s cute,” Yuri agreed, deciding to just ignore the second part of Isabella’s statement. “And we’ll make sure you look _extra_ hot at the party.”

Isabella grinned. “I have some ideas. You’ll come over before the party, right?”

Yuri nodded. “Mila’s picking me up, and then we’re picking you up.”

“Sounds great. You can both help.”

There was a knock on the door. “Kolya says dinner’s ready,” Otabek said from the other side of the door.

“We’ll be right out!” Yuri called.

He went to stand, but Isabella grabbed his arm. “So you and Otabek…?”

Yuri snorted. “There’s _nothing_ there. Trust me.” The idea was _ridiculous_ . Otabek was annoying and pretentious and Yuri definitely didn’t want to _date_ him.

Isabella looked thoughtful. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s eat.”

They went out to the kitchen, where Otabek was sitting down in his seat. He’d, apparently, learned his lesson about not sitting in Yuri’s seat, for which Yuri was grateful.

Yuri noticed the dairy slow cooker. “Dairy again?”

“Only a little bit,” his grandfather said. “I’ll be fine.”

“What’s with all the dairy?” Yuri asked. “It’s all been dairy or pareve since Chanukah.”

“Yes,” his grandfather said, as if there was something Yuri was missing.

“Well, why?” Yuri asked.

His grandfather looked over at Otabek. “Otabek doesn’t eat meat,” Nikolai said. “I thought you knew.”

Oh. Typical. Otabek really _was_ in his stupid post-adolescent idealistic phase. “That explains it,” Yuri grumbled. It also explained why Otabek was so sure the meal he was making the other day was kosher.

“I hope I’m not being an inconvenience,” Otabek said.

“Of course not,” Nikolai said.

“I’ve told you before, asshole, you’re not an inconvenience. I’m not lactose intolerant, or anything, and as long as it tastes good, I don’t care.” At that moment, Yuri got a text from Mila. He checked it.

 

> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> psssst seung gils been talking about your picture all night
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> holy shit operation seungbella is officially a go

“Yurachka,” his grandfather said. “You know not to use phones at the dinner table.”

“Sorry, Ded,” Yuri said. He stuffed his phone into his pocket. “It was important.”

“If it was important,” Nikolai said, “you wouldn’t mind telling us what it was Mila had to say?”

Yuri blushed, but whatever. It wasn’t super private. “Isabella and I posted a picture on MySpace earlier and Seung-Gil has been talking about it.”

“That was important?” Nikolai asked.

“Yes,” Yuri said. “Seung-Gil never talks about _anything_.”

He looked smugly at Otabek, who had a strange expression on his face. Whatever. Asshole was probably just jealous at Yuri’s amazing matchmaking skills. And Yuri had fucking _amazing_ matchmaking skills.

“Anyway,” Yuri said. “I’m going over Mila’s tomorrow night. I might spend the night, but I’ll probably just be back late.”

“Okay,” Nikolai said. “I’m sure you’ll have a fun time.”

Yuri was sure that they would. Although, really, it probably wasn’t the kind of fun that his grandfather was thinking of. He avoided Otabek’s gaze; he didn’t want anything to seem suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 A sampling of malls in the greater Philly area. King of Prussia is, iirc, the second-largest mall in the US, and even though I've lived in greater Philly practically my whole life, I have never been. Christiana is in Delaware, so there's no sales tax which is the main pull for people from PA and Maryland who go there. Springfield.... exists. (I've never been there, either, tbh, but it's closer to the setting than either King of Prussia or Christiana) [return to text]  
> 2 A Jim Dandy is a kind of sundae offered at Friendly's restaurants. Apparently it's a classic sundae? Idk it's tasty. ([on the Friendly's website](https://www.friendlysrestaurants.com/menu-item/jim-dandy/)) [return to text]  
> 3 In kashrut, pareve is food that is neither dairy nor meat. So: veggies, fruits, legumes, grains. Also eggs (if there are no blood spots), and fish. And probably more I'm forgetting. Someone I know told me she grew up thinking chicken is pareve - it is not. [return to text]  
> 4 Treyf = unkosher. When you're cooking and keeping kosher pots and pans and such, you can accidentally cause a pan to become treyf if you mix meat and dairy, or let it touch food that isn't fit for consumption according to kashrut. In food itself, treyf can be, like, a cheeseburger (where the individual elements are fine, but it's the combining meat & dairy that makes it treyf) or pork or shellfish (not allowed under kashrut). [return to text]  
> 5 Shabbat starts at sundown on Friday and lasts until sundown on Saturday. In Reform congregations (at least in the US), Friday night services tend to be more popular, while in Conservative and Orthodox congregants tend to prefer to go on Saturday morning. [return to text]  
> 6 A kippah, also known as a yarmulke, is that one hat Jewish men (and some women) wear. ([on My Jewish Learning](https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/kippah/)). I was literally told, today, the day before posting as I'm editing this, that in classical Reform congregations, people really don't wear kippot. This has not been my experience at my Reform synagogue. [return to text]  
> 7 _Nosh_ is a Yiddish word (coming originally from German naschen, to snack), which means, surprise, a light meal or a snack. In this contexts, some synagogues have a light snack before services while people come in, and everyone gets a chance to socialise. (a meal _after_ Friday night shabbat services is usually referred to as the oneg)  [return to text]  
> 8 Dailybooth was a beautiful little ambitious project: take a picture of yourself every day for a year and see how you've changed. It was a social network, and was often a way for people to show off cool clothes or makeup or what have you. I'd recommend it, only it closed down a few years ago. [return to text]  
> 


	8. Tastykakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and his friends go to a house party in the city.

* * *

Yuri wasn’t sure how, but he’d ended up in Sara and Mickey’s car on the way to the city. He’d helped Isabella pick out an outfit – [a tight black Tripp dress with a tutu](https://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com/post/171184631511/isabellas-dress-in-chapter-8-of-crushd), paired with knee-high combat boots – and then Sara and Mickey had come over and he’d… ended up in their car instead of Mila’s. And it was  _ miserable _ .

Even Emil’s presence didn’t do much to temper Mickey’s anger at Sara’s outfit.

“For  _ fuck’s sake _ !” Yuri yelled as they got into the city. “She’s  _ in a relationship _ , and  _ she’s  _ not the one who fucked off for three hours on Christmas and scared the shit out of everyone because she was too busy making out with someone to answer her goddamn phone! Someone who, need I fucking remind you, you swore was just a fucking  _ friend _ !”

Mickey fell silent for a few seconds. “You don’t have to be such a  _ dick, _ Plisetsky.”

“You don’t have to treat your  _ twin sister _ like a fucking child.”

“I don’t need you to defend me, Yuri,” Sara said.

“I don’t care about  _ defending _ you,” Yuri growled. “I care about fucking Mickey shutting the fuck up.”

Sara hummed. “That’s fair, then.”

Emil pressed a bottle into Yuri’s hands. “Proper Czech beer.”

Yuri took a sip and nearly spit it out. “That’s  _ disgusting_.”

Emil laughed. “Thought you might say that. Hold on.” He rummaged through his bag and pulled out another bottle. It  _ read _ Nos, but Yuri was sure that it wasn’t the energy drink. “The only thing else I could snag was… splashes of other booze.”[1]

Yuri took an experimental sip. Shit, that was strong. He pulled a face. “This is better.”

“Help yourself,” Emil said. “Your grandpa only has, like, wine, right?”

“Kosher wine, for dinner, and he’d notice if I snagged some.”

Emil slung an arm around his shoulder. “Well, we’ve got you. Between you and me… Mickey and I have snagged a few bottles of wine from his parents’ collection. But  _ someone _ thought that was a bad idea tonight.”

“We’re going to a party in the city and lying about it,” Mickey said from the driver’s seat. “I’m not fucking risking stealing booze, too.”

“See, Yuri?” Emil said. “He’s really very sweet. He just tries to hide it for some mysterious reason.”

Yuri snorted. “I’m not sure I’d go that far.” He took another slug of the mysterious booze mixture. “This is passable, I guess.” He was definitely planning on finishing the bottle.

* * *

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. Yuri hung around Sara, and together they quickly found Mila and Isabella. “I’ll leave you two gross fucks to yourself,” Yuri said. “Come on, Isabella.” 

He dragged her further into the party, and then the worst thing possible happened. 

“Isabella!”

This was a fucking party thrown by Mickey and Sara’s old friends… unless fucking traitor Mickey had once been a jock. And, well, Yuri wouldn’t put it past them.

“Leroy,” Yuri said, at the same time Isabella said, “hi, JJ.”

“You two seem pretty attached at the hip,” JJ said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it’s good to see you both! Leo and Guang-Hong kind of dragged me here, but they’re… well, I don’t really want to think about what they’re doing,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, we need to find Seung-Gil,” Yuri said. “Bye, Leroy.”

“I’ll come with you!” JJ said.

Yuri ignored him and dragged Bella to another room. JJ, unfortunately, followed them, so Yuri kept moving. Eventually, he found Seung-Gil, who had found the dog, and was petting it with one hand, while holding a bottle of beer in the other. “Seung-Gil!” Yuri called.

Seung-Gil looked up and actually  _ smiled _ . “Yuri! Isabella!” He didn’t make any move to leave his spot, so Yuri dragged Isabella over to him. “This dog is  _ so nice _ .”

“He’s been here for an hour already,” JJ said from behind them. “He said he took SEPTA in.”

“Why are  _ you _ here?” Yuri growled. “This is supposed to be Mickey’s old friend’s place.”

“Yeah,” JJ said. “We know each other from lacrosse competitions!”

He fucking  _ knew it _ . “Mickey was a jock!” He grabbed Isabella’s arm. “Mickey was a fucking  _ jock _ !” He started laughing uncontrollably.

“Is he okay?” JJ asked.

Yuri actually had to lean on JJ’s shoulder for support to keep from falling over. “I fucking  _ knew _ that asshole wasn’t a real punk!” This was  _ glorious _ . He’d find Mila as soon as he’d set Isabella up with Seung-Gil and laugh about this together.

After a few minutes, he recovered and backed the fuck away from JJ. “Okay, I’m good.” He took another slug of his amazing mixed drink. 

“Isabella,” JJ said. “How about I… get you a beer?”

“Sure,” Isabella said.

And they were gone. What the fuck? He turned to Seung-Gil. “I can’t fucking believe Mickey was a jock.”

Seung-Gil raised an eyebrow. He was sitting on the floor, and didn’t look inclined to get up, so Yuri sat down next to him. “That would explain why the music’s so shitty here,” Yuri grumbled.

“Yuri,” Seung-Gil said, or, well, more like slurred.

It was weird. Yuri had never really  _ drank _ before; he’d usually opted for water while he friends downed vodka, and he was good enough at pretending to be drunk without ever actually  _ drinking _ . Everything seemed weirdly…  _ blurry _ , out of focus in some way he couldn’t quite explain. Fuck, what was  _ in _ that drink Emil had given him? He’d only had… Yuri checked the bottle. Shit. It was mostly empty.

“Yeah?” Yuri said.

“Your picture today…”

“Bella looked hot, huh?” Yuri asked.

“Bella?” Seung-Gil asked.

Yuri nodded. “And her dress tonight…”

“Do you like Isabella, or something?” If Yuri had been more aware, he would have noticed the edge to Seung-Gil’s voice.

Yuri snorted. “No?  _ You _ like Isabella.”

“No, I don’t,” Seung-Gil said, his full attention on the dog. “I like  _ you _ .”

“Very funny,” Yuri said. 

“I’m not joking,” Seung-Gil said. “You’re really hot, you’re smart, you’re not afraid to show everyone when you’re pissed off…”

Yuri slowly inched away from Seung-Gil. “Uh?”

And then, to Yuri’s horror, Seung-Gil tried to  _ kiss him _ . Yuri turned his head at the last second, so Seung-Gil ended up kissing his cheek instead. “Dude, what the  _ fuck _ ?” Yuri growled.

“I like you,” Seung-Gil said, as if that made all the sense in the world. He went into kiss Yuri again, and that was when Yuri slid away. He crawled for a few feet (shit he was drunk, wasn’t he? Was this what being drunk felt like?) and then managed to get to his feet and tried to find Isabella or Mila or  _ someone _ .

He didn’t see anyone, but he  _ did _ find an unopened bottle of vodka. He grabbed it and went outside. Maybe they were outside. Maybe none of this was actually happening. There were kids in the yard, but Yuri couldn’t find anyone he knew. He kept walking.

After about ten minutes, still clutching a bottle of vodka in one hand and whatever fucking poisonous garbage Emil had given him in the other, Yuri realised that he was hopelessly lost. Which was fucked up; he was practically  _ from _ Philly!

But this was South Philly at night and he wasn’t sure that wandering around while drunk and underage and carrying an unopened bottle of vodka was a good idea. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He tucked the bottle of Nos/liquor under his arm, pulled out his phone with his free hand, and called Otabek.

He picked up after two rings. “Hello?”

“Otabek?”

“What’s up?”

“I went to a party in South Philly and I lost Mila and Bella and everyone and JJ was there and I had to leave because Seung-Gil tried to  _ kiss _ me but he’s supposed to like Bella and Emil gave me this bottle of alcohol and I don’t know what’s in it but I’m pretty sure I’m drunk and I don’t know where I am.”

“Wait,  _ what _ ?” Otabek asked. “Where are you?”

“I don’t  _ know _ ,” Yuri whined. “That’s the  _ point _ .”

“What does the nearest street sign say?” Otabek asked.

Oh. Right. The street signs. “Hold on,” Yuri said. “I’ll find a street sign. It’s just houses.”

“Holy shit, Yuri.”

Yuri walked down the street another half a block. “Sheridan and Porter,” he said into the phone.

Otabek hissed. “Shit, Yuri. Okay. Stay put. I’ll be there in half an hour. Stay put, Yuri. Holy fucking shit.”

“Wait,” Yuri said. “Stay on the line? I don’t really… know where I am, but…”

Otabek sighed into the phone. “Okay. All right. Well… I’ll just put my shoes on and borrow Nikolai’s car…”

“He won’t mind,” Yuri says. “I’ll tell him.”

“Yura,” Otabek said softly. “Your grandfather already told me that I can use his car if he’s not, and since he’s sleeping… look, I won’t tell him, and you don’t have to tell him, okay?”

“Okay,” Yuri said.

Otabek stayed on the line while he put on his shoes and got into the car, and all the way over. Yuri didn’t see many people out and about, but each person who passed by made Yuri more and more nervous. By the time Otabek came down Sheridan in Dedushka’s old beat up sedan, Yuri did feel significantly less drunk.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Otabek said, taking his phone away from his ear and disconnecting the call. “I’m just glad you’re oka– is that a bottle of vodka?”

Yuri set it down on the floor of the car and shut the door. Once he buckled up, Otabek started driving again. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. It’s unopened, so it’s not drugged, or anything.”

Otabek sighed. “Okay, don’t open that. What did you  _ drink _ ?”

Yuri shrugged. He really didn’t know. “Emil offered me some gross beer, and I told him I didn’t like that, so he gave me a Nos bottle and he said it was basically a little bit of every kind of liquor he could sneak so his parents wouldn’t notice.”

“Okay, general rule of thumb, for future reference,” Otabek said, “mixing alcohol is usually a terrible idea. I know that’s something high school kids do to fool their parents, but… fuck, honestly, if you need alcohol, just ask me and I’ll get one of my upperclassmen friends to get you something.”

“I thought you were supposed to be responsible.”

“I’d rather have you drinking one kind of liquor than getting shitfaced and blacking out on whatever toxic shit that is.”

Yuri wasn’t sure that he’d ever heard Otabek curse before tonight.

“I was really worried,” Otabek said. “About you. And you said Seung-Gil kissed you?”

Yuri nodded, feeling spectacularly stupid. “He was supposed to like Bella. And then Bella left with fucking JJ, and Seung-Gil said that he liked  _ me _ , and he tried to  _ kiss _ me, which what the actual  _ fuck _ ?”

“I thought you liked Seung-Gil?”

Yuri snorted. “As a friend,  _ maybe _ , but not as anything more than that.”

“Oh,” Otabek said. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”

Yuri groaned. “ _ Fuck _ ; I have to see him on Monday.”

“Well,” said Otabek. “I move back in to the dorms Tuesday. If you need someone to bitch to, I humbly offer my services.”

“Thanks, Otabek,” Yuri said.

“You can call me Beka, you know, if you want.”

“ _ Beka _ ?” Yuri repeated.

“It’s a diminutive. You know, like  _ Yura _ .”

Yuri felt his cheeks heat up, although he didn’t really know why. “All right, I guess,” Yuri said. 

“Yuri,” Otabek said, “do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Uh, sure, I guess?” Yuri had a feeling that this could end badly, so he finished his bottle of shitty mixed alcohol.

“Holy fuck, Yura, isn’t that the same fucking alcohol I just told you  _ not _ to drink?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “There was only a little bit left,” he said defensively. He tried not to think about why he was blushing.

“Anyway,” Otabek said. “If this makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to answer.”

“Uh, okay,” Yuri said.

“Is there… any particular reason you’re drinking tonight?”

“Nah,” Yuri said. “I just thought it’d be fun.”

“My staying with you and Nikolai isn’t…”

Yuri heaved a sigh. “Holy  _ fuck _ , Otabek! It’s fine! I was annoyed at the lack of notice but I really don’t mind! You’re… kind of okay to hang out with, I guess.”

Otabek’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” Yuri said. “You’re a pretentious ass, but you’re a decent person, and you’re not, like, loud or anything. You being here didn’t really disrupt my routine, or anything like that.”

“Oh,” Otabek said. He looked like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t.

“You want the vodka?” Yuri asked.

“You keep it,” Otabek said. “And I’m not telling Kolya about  _ any _ of this. You’re old enough to make your own mistakes.”

“Thanks,” Yuri said. “And Victor?”

“I’m not telling  _ anyone _ ,” Otabek clarified. “Christ, Victor would be worse than Kolya by far. I wouldn’t inflict that on you.”

“Thanks,” Yuri said again.

“Are you feeling okay?” Otabek asked after a few minutes of silence. 

“I guess,” Yuri said. “It’s weird. I don’t feel sick or anything, though.”

“That’s good.”

They didn’t talk again for a while, and Yuri almost started to nod off until he noticed that Otabek had stopped the car. Yuri blinked and looked around. “Wawa?” he asked.

Otabek nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

“Uh, okay?”

Otabek honest to god smiled at him, and Yuri took this time to open his phone. He didn’t have any text messages, but that didn’t mean anything.

 

> To: Milushaaa <333, Bella!!
> 
> hey im ok but something happened and i called otabek to take me home bc i didnt want to bother either of you
> 
>  
> 
> From: Bella!!
> 
> Are you sure you’re okay??
> 
>  
> 
> To: Bella!!
> 
> yea im sure. 

 

Otabek came out of the Wawa, and Yuri noticed the strange expression on his face. He tried to figure out just what it could mean, but since he didn’t  _ think _ Otabek was pissed, he found himself at a loss.

Otabek opened the driver's side door, got in, and handed Yuri his shopping bag. “Drink the water and take one of the ibuprofen now.”

Yuri did as he was told without complaint for once, and as he was digging through the bag, he noticed that the water and ibuprofen were far from the only things in the bag. “Tastykakes?”

“You like them,” Otabek said. “Peanut butter Kandykakes and lemon pies, right?”

Yuri nodded, tearing into a package of the tastykakes. “And butterscotch krimpets.”

“Uh, I… definitely know what those are,” Otabek said.

Yuri laughed. “Ded has ‘em sometimes. They’re good.”

“Make sure to take an ibuprofen.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, opened the bottle of ibuprofen, and took one. “Happy?” he asked.

“Very,” Otabek said. “It’ll be hard keeping this from your grandfather if you’re hungover tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I’m that drunk anymore,” Yuri said. 

“And you need to hide that bottle of vodka somewhere he’ll never find it.”

“I know  _ that _ ,” Yuri said. He ate the other peanut butter Kandykake from the package. 

“I’m glad you called me, Yura,” Otabek said.

Yuri felt a bit strange and warm at Otabek’s use of the diminutive. “You are?”

“Of course,” Otabek said. “And… you can call me for help any time. No matter what it is.”

In the light of the parking lot… Yuri wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d never noticed that Otabek was kind of… not terrible-looking before. Even though he was in his pyjamas (which Yuri hadn’t noticed earlier –  _ fuck _ ; had he woken Otabek up?), there was something strangely… attractive about Otabek in his battered old t-shirt, with his stupid Beatles haircut not immaculately styled and instead haphazardly pushed aside. Yuri had definitely never noticed how… warm and pleasant Otabek’s eyes were before.

Yuri forced himself to stop thinking about that, and he looked away. “Thanks.”

“Can I ask… why did you call me instead of Victor?”

Shit. That was right. Victor would have picked him up in a heartbeat, and Victor was in the city. Sure, he’d have gotten a lecture, but he’d fully expected one from Otabek. Why  _ had _ he called Otabek? He hadn’t even really  _ thought _ on it. “Dunno,” Yuri said. “Figured Victor’d probably be… occupied, I guess. Didn’t really think about it.”

“Oh,” Otabek said.

“Thanks, again,” Yuri said. “For everything.”

“Of course,” Otabek said. “But if you wanna pay me back…”

“Hm?” Yuri managed to hum. His heart was thumping in his chest and he really didn’t think it had anything to do with the alcohol. But, hey, maybe it did.

Otabek smiled. “Uh, I know this is kind of last minute but… I kind of thought we could make a weekend of it?”

“A weekend?”

Otabek nodded. “Get a hotel room and spend the weekend in D.C.”

A weekend with Otabek. They’d been sharing a bedroom for weeks, and that was fine. But… tonight was weird. Although, really, maybe tonight was just weird because of everything else that had happened. It was  _ Otabek _ . He was a pretentious ass. It’d be fine. “Only if we go to the zoo.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Otabek murmured. “But I think I can manage. We can talk about other things to do tomorrow. For now… maybe we should head back.”

“Okay,” Yuri said. He tore into one of the lemon pies and Otabek put the car into drive and went back to the apartment. Yuri made extra sure to get his bottle of vodka, and followed Otabek into the apartment. He didn’t really notice how Otabek lingered behind to make sure everything was shut and locked. Yuri made sure to take off his boots in the entranceway, and stripped down to his underwear as soon as he got into his room, not caring that Otabek was right there. He put the bottle of vodka in his underwear drawer and crawled into bed.

* * *

The next day, Yuri blissfully felt okay, and he and Otabek spent the morning planning their trip to D.C. True to his word, Otabek didn’t tell Yuri’s grandfather what had happened; he just said that he’d had to pick Yuri up from Mila’s house. 

In the late afternoon, Mila came by with Isabella, and said that they were going to North Philly.

He knew, really, that they were trying to get him to tell them what had happened; he realised in retrospect that his text had probably freaked them both out more than anything. 

The drive there was pretty quiet; Mila was the only one who volunteered new information. “There’s this bookstore by Bell’s Market. Let’s go there,” she said.

The subtext (that no one would speak English well) was not lost on Yuri. “Okay,” he said.

So they drove to the shopping center and went to the store labeled  _Книжник_. [2] “So,” Mila said in low English after assuring the shop assistant that they knew what they were doing in Russian. “What happened last night?”

Yuri hesitated, pretending to be interested in a book of Pushkin’s poetry. Maybe the direct approach would be best. “I talked to Seung-Gil… tried to talk Bella up, y’know, and he tried to kiss me.”

“ _ What _ ?” Mila hissed.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuri said, turning to Isabella. “I had  _ no _ idea that he’d do that.”

Isabella didn’t look too annoyed. “He’s an asswipe, then. Better that we found out now than after I’d already fucked him. I’m sorry the dickwad tried to kiss you like that, though.”

“So then you called Otabek?” Mila asked.

Yuri ducked his head, pretending to read the book. “I might’ve… stolen a bottle of vodka, and then gotten lost in South Philly and  _ then _ called Otabek.”

“Yurachka!” Mila gasped.

“I know,” Yuri said with a grimace. “He wasn’t even mad, either. Well, he seemed pissed about Seung-Gil, but he was mostly concerned.”

“Honestly, Yuri,” Mila sighed.

Yuri did not, however, go on to tell Mila that Otabek had as good as told him to call him ‘Beka’, or that he hadn’t even  _ thought _ about calling Victor, and he definitely didn’t tell her about the bullshit in the Wawa parking lot (he hadn’t had the same thoughts in the morning, so he blamed it on the alcohol).

“It’s fine,” Yuri said. “But, yeah, Seung-Gil’s a dick, and I’m fine. That’s it.”

“Well,” Mila said. “I think we’re done here. Let’s go to Bell’s and get food.”

“Wait,” Yuri said. “I, uh, wanted to get Otabek something for dragging his ass out of bed at ass o’clock to come pick me up. Just something small,” he added.

“Okay,” Mila said in that stupid obnoxious  _ tone _ of hers.

Yuri quickly found a volume of Ahkmatova’s poetry and purchased it. He didn’t miss Mila’s look, but she was mercifully quiet on the short walk to Bell’s.

“God, can you imagine,” Isabella said. “I bet Seung-Gil’s really shitty in bed.”

“Um?” Yuri said.

“Shhh!” Mila swatted at Bella. “He’s a virgin.”

“Seung-Gil?” Bella asked. “I mean, I can see that. He doesn’t really  _ talk _ , does he?”

“I don’t know about Seung-Gil,” Mila said, and not-so-subtly gestured to Yuri.

“I have high standards,” Yuri said, not really bothered. He had more important things to worry about than losing his virginity.

“Right,” Mila agreed. “We’re not all saving ourselves for Gerard Way.”

“You’re one to talk,  _ Milusha _ .”

“Okay, between my girlfriend’s homophobic parents and the lack of comprehensive sex ed for same-sex couples, excuse me if I’m still  _ technically _ a virgin.”

Yuri held up a finger. “One, you could have sex at  _ your _ house. Two, I’m sure there’s all kinds of books and shit. Your parents are fine about that now.”

“Well,” Mila said, “maybe  _ one of us _ won’t be able to say they’re a virgin anymore after the twentieth.”

Yuri frowned. “You and Sara have plans?”

“No,” Mila said. “When you were getting dressed, Otabek said you two were spending inauguration weekend in D.C. together.”

Yuri shoved at her. He was sure that Mila had needled Otabek to get him to tell her that. “There’s nothing between me and Otabek,” Yuri said for the millionth time.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Mila said.

“You forget yourself, Mila,” Yuri said as they entered Bell’s. “Remember whose grandpa is the bakery manager here.”

“So what is… here?” Isabella asked.

“Well, it’s a grocery store. They sell a lot of Russian and Eastern European stuff, too,” Yuri said. “The bakery’s to die for, though.”

“He’s a little biased, but he’s right,” Mila said. 

Yuri draped an arm around Bella’s shoulder. “We’ll show you the best stuff. Including the candy.”

“I  _ am _ always down for candy.”

“We’ll find you a guy who isn’t such a total skeez,” Yuri promised her. “But for now… snacks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 I've seen this referred to by many names, most frequently "suicide punch". It's where you take a little bit of a whole bunch of different kinds of alcohol and mix them together. It's a terrible, terrible idea. 0/10 Do Not Recommend. [return to text]  
> 2 "Bookshop" in Russian (i think it literally means "Scribe" but w/e) [return to text]  
> 


	9. Grandpa’s Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Otabek go to D.C. for the inauguration of Barack Obama. Part One.

Yuri hadn’t even fully returned his room to normal, pre-Otabek levels of mess and disorganisation when Otabek came back on Friday afternoon to pick him up to go to D.C. He had taken all of his stuffed animals out of his suitcase and put them back on the top bunk, but that was really only because he knew he needed his suitcase for the weekend.

Yuri packed mostly warm clothes, and Mila and Isabella came over to help after school on Thursday. Mila, of course, teased him about packing sexy underwear, and Yuri, in turn, adamantly denied that there was anything between himself and Otabek. They were friends. That was it. 

His grandfather knew in advance that Yuri wasn’t going to shul, and had made him and Otabek some snacks for the road. Otabek arrived at the apartment at half past three, when Nikolai was still at the store. Yuri was all packed up and waiting with Pyotya on his lap when Otabek buzzed.

Yuri grabbed his phone and texted him.

> To: Otabek
> 
> hey asshole i know you have a key. use it. i have a cat on my lap.

After a minute, Yuri wasn’t sure that Otabek had gotten his text, but then a key turned in the lock and Otabek came inside.

“You know you’re going to have to let her out of your lap when we go to leave,” Otabek said.

“But every second spent with a cat on your lap is a good one,” Yuri countered.

“You all packed?”

Yuri nodded. “Ded left us a bag of snacks in the kitchen.”

“I’m not carrying your suitcase down, you know.”

“I know,” Yuri said. He picked Pyotya up and carried her into his room. He set her down on the bed and grabbed his suitcase. He made sure to kiss Pyotya’s soft, furry little head before he left. Otabek was waiting in the living room with the bag of snacks. “Ready to go?” he asked.

Yuri grabbed his lanyard from the hook on the wall. “Yeah. Let’s go.” He made sure to lock the door behind them, and followed Otabek out to the parking lot.

“So how are we getting there, anyway?”

“I got a car,” Otabek said.

“For this?”

“For a lot of reasons, but including this, yes.” Otabek led him to a new silver Toyota Prius, and Yuri snorted.

“Of fucking course you got a fucking  _ Prius _ .”

“I almost got a motorcycle,” Otabek told him in such a tone that Yuri couldn’t figure out if he was joking or not. “But that was where my parents drew the line. My parents weren’t about to buy their gay disappointment of a son a motorcycle.”

“Your parents are a disappointment,” Yuri grumbled as he shoved his suitcase in the hatchback.

“Well,” Otabek said. “I can’t argue with that.” 

Yuri took the bag of snacks from him and got into the car. He expected three hours of obnoxious pretentious hipster music (or… whatever the fuck it was that Otabek listened to), and was instead shocked when, a few seconds after starting the car, Say Anything’s “In Defense of the Genre” started playing.

“What the fuck?” Yuri asked.

“I made a road trip mix.[1] A lot of it’s music I think we both like, and some of it’s music I know you love.”

Oh. That was… actually really kind and thoughtful. What the fuck? If it were anyone besides Otabek, Yuri would already be in the middle of a text with Mila asking what the fuck this was supposed to mean. But he knew already what Mila would say. Mila and Victor both were convinced that he was in love with Otabek, but he wasn’t.

“That’s cool,” Yuri said instead. He dug into the bag of snacks. Holy shit, his grandfather had packed challah buns.[2] “ _Fuck _ yes.”

“Hm?”

“Ded packed us challah buns.”

“Don’t know that I’ve ever had one,” Otabek said.

“They’re fucking delicious.” As if to prove his point, Yuri grabbed one out of the bag, pulled a bit off from one of the braids, and popped it in his mouth. He moaned in pleasure. “ _ Fuck _ , this is good.”

“O-oh?”

“Want to try some?” Yuri asked. After all, there were more in the bag, and Otabek  _ was  _ paying for everything all weekend.

“Uh, sure,” Otabek said.

Yuri tore off another chunk of the challah bun and, without thinking, held in front of Otabek’s mouth. After half a second, Otabek ate it. Yuri was about to ask him why he was being weird but then he realised that  _ he _ was the one being weird. Just because he could feed Mila shit like that didn’t mean that he could feed  _ Otabek _ shit like that. 

To make matters worse, Otabek didn’t even  _ say _ anything after he finished the bit of challah bun, which meant that Yuri could  _ clearly _ hear Max Bemis sing, “ _ When I watch you / Wanna do you / Right where you’re standing _ ” when the next song started.

Okay, what the  _ fuck _ , Max Bemis? So much for Jewish solidarity. Gerard Way would never have betrayed Yuri like this.

Yuri didn’t say anything. Maybe he should? They drove on down I-95, and the song changed to “Niki FM” by Hawthorne Heights. Yuri couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of the songs Otabek liked, or one of the ones he’d bought for Yuri. Yuri grabbed Otabek’s iPod and skipped to the next song. A Smiths song started playing.

Okay. This was okay. Until Yuri realised it was another fucking love song. What the  _ fuck _ ? He didn’t realise that the Smiths  _ did _ love songs! He didn’t skip the song, though, because he didn’t want to seem suspicious. But that was stupid, because he didn’t have a crush on stupid fucking Otabek.

After the Smiths song ended, Yuri was relieved to hear that the next song was “Wake Me Up When September Ends”. Okay. Time to act like a normal fucking human being.

“So, uh,” Yuri managed. “What do you think?”

“They’re good,” Otabek said, as if he hadn’t just sat there in silence for over eight minutes.

“There’s more in the bag,” Yuri said. He chanced a glance at Otabek, whose face was a little pinker than normal. God, he probably thought something was seriously wrong with Yuri to be acting that way. They weren’t that close. At least. Yuri didn’t think they were.

“I’ll have some more when we get to the hotel, then.”

The hotel! A normal topic! “Where is the hotel, anyway? I don’t wanna haul ass on the metro.”

“It’s the Capitol Hilton,” Otabek said. “It’s maybe two blocks from the White House – best I could get when I placed the reservation.”

Wait, a fucking  _ Hilton _ ? Yuri had never stayed in a hotel that nice in his life. And right next to the fucking  _ White House _ ?

“I… I’m glad you don’t mind sharing a room,” Otabek added. “It makes things easier.”

“We did just share a room for almost a month,” Yuri said. “It’s fine.”

At least, Yuri thought it would be.

* * *

They arrived at the hotel, and a bellhop helped them get their bags onto a cart. Otabek gave his keys to the valet. “It’s easier than trying to take the metro in,” Otabek explained.

Easier, sure, but much more expensive, Yuri was sure. He followed Otabek into the hotel, and almost stumbled into the immaculate lobby. Holy fucking shit. This place was fucking  _ nice _ . Otabek checked in at the counter, and Yuri kind of… tried to stay out of the way. After a minute or so at the counter, Otabek walked back over to Yuri. “Tired?” he asked. “We can just get room service if you want.”

_ Room service _ ? “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice before,” Yuri said honestly. “This is a fucking  _ Hilton _ .”

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed. “It wasn’t my first choice, to be honest, but like I said… reservations were tough. We’re on the sixth floor.”

The bellhop followed them to their room, which, fortunately, had two full beds (although it was probably half the size of Ded’s whole apartment), and Otabek tipped him. Yuri walked over to the bed closest to the window. “I want this one.”

“Sure,” Otabek said. “Dinner?” 

“Uh, sure,” Yuri said.

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” Yuri said. “I’m not tired.”

“Okay.”

And so, half an hour later, they found themselves at a local Italian restaurant that had something more substantial than a salad for Otabek. This was, apparently, easier said than done in the fucking capital of the United States.

“Do your parents bitch about you being a vegetarian, too?” Yuri asked curiously.

“What do you think?”

That was a yes, then. “What about your siblings?”

Otabek took a sip of his Pepsi. “They don’t really understand me, but they’re not as bad. It was really… cutthroat when I was younger, always being asked if I was Anara or Erasyl’s little brother. But… they’re okay. I don’t think either of them thought my being gay was some sort of  _ rebellion _ like my parents did, but… they also don’t understand why I don’t just… go to law school and become a lawyer or politician or whatever.”

“I mean,” Yuri said, “arguing with people for a living seems fun.”

Otabek smiled. “For  _ you _ , maybe. It’s not my calling at all.”

“Do you talk to them?”

“Sometimes,” Otabek says. “More often than I do my parents, anymore, anyway. Anara’s the one who helped convince them that it was worth it to pay for an apartment and car for me. She’s their favorite, so that helped a lot.”

“Shit,” Yuri said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s frustrating dealing with Victor being… well, great at everything, really. But that sounds even shittier.”

“I’m… pretty sure Kolya’s entirely adopted me by this point.”

“He’ll probably badger you to call him  _ dedushka _ by the end of the school year,” Yuri agreed. 

“I wouldn’t really mind that,” Otabek said. 

The waiter came by with their meals, then: penne alla vodka for Otabek, and chicken parm for Yuri.

“Isn’t that  _ treyf _ , then?” Otabek teased.

“You know I don’t actually keep kosher. But… yes, it’s treyf. Considering it’s meat with a shit ton of cheese. Ded wouldn’t be eating it.”

“Does Victor keep kosher?” Otabek asked.

Yuri actually had to think about that. “I don’t… think so? I don’t think he cooks much; when I made Ded’s pirozhki and babka for Chanukah, he didn’t have… any ingredients, really. It’s hard to keep kosher if you order in all the time. But then… I don’t know that he eats pork or shellfish. Maybe. He probably just doesn’t care all that much, like me.” Yuri took a bite of the chicken parm then. It was fucking  _ heavenly _ ; he had to bite back a moan. He wanted to tone down the weird around Otabek as much as possible. “That’ll probably change with his Japanese boyfriend, anyway. They eat a lot of shellfish.”

“Hm,” Otabek said. “Makes sense. I certainly didn’t care about making sure everything was halal when I ate meat.”

“So we’re both shitty at… what was it Victor said? Carrying on our families’ traditions, or whatever?”

Otabek laughed. “Apparently. But I think you do a better job of it than I do. I’m not even sure I’d call myself a Muslim if we weren’t in a country that assumed Christianity. I’m certainly not religious.”

“I’m not really religious, either. I mean… I go to services with Ded because it’s  _ Ded _ , but I don’t know if I’d do that if I didn’t live with him.” He had another bite of his chicken parm. “Although maybe I would. I have a feeling abandoning my Jewish roots is the one thing I could do to actually  _ disappoint _ Ded… and I really don’t want to do that.”

“Yeah, you  _ are _ kind of a grandpa’s boy, aren’t you?” Otabek teased. 

“No shame in that,” Yuri said. “You’re not the only one in the shitty parents club.”

Otabek hummed. “Do you mind if I ask…?”

Yuri shrugged. “Well, my mom is the piece of shit, really. My dad doesn’t know I exist, and I have no idea who he is. But my mother got pregnant when she was… well, shit, younger than me now, I guess, because she was fifteen when I was born. And, whatever, that’s hard, but after she graduated high school, she hauled ass out of PA[3] and moved to New York and then to LA, and I haven’t seen her since I was… seven, I think?”

“Holy shit, Yura.”

“‘S fine,” Yuri said.

“It’s not.”

“Well, you’re right, it’s not. But I’m used to it, and it doesn’t really get to me like it used to. I have Ded, who’s great, and I have Victor, who might be a piece of shit but at least he cares.” He took a sip of his own Pepsi. “Okay, fine. Victor’s not a piece of shit.”

“Older brothers are annoying,” Otabek said, “and… that’s what Victor is to you, right? Not  _ literally _ , but…”

“As good as. His parents died… well, right before my mom left, I guess it was. So he’s been there as long as I can remember.” Yuri took another bite of his chicken parm. “My mom’s an actress,” he added. “Daytime soaps and shit, nothing serious.”

“Explains why you hate actors.”

Yuri shrugged. He couldn’t exactly  _ deny _ that his distaste for actors went a bit beyond what was normal or even reasonable, but he didn’t really think that he could be faulted for it. “Look, hypothetically, if I knocked a girl up and she decided to keep it… I’m just saying, it’d fucking suck, but I wouldn’t  _ move across the country _ without the fucking kid.”

“Right,” Otabek said.

“And that’s  _ totally _ hypothetical,” Yuri made sure to add. “Because I wouldn’t have sex with a girl while I’m still in school for that very reason.”

“What about a guy?”

Yuri looked up to meet Otabek’s gaze, and saw that he was blushing.

“Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t… that’s invasive as hell; I’m sorry.”

“‘S fine,” Yuri said. “A guy’d be different. I mean… I probably lean more towards guys, anyway, but I don’t have that rule for guys. It’d be pretty hard to accidentally get a guy pregnant.”

“Makes sense,” Otabek said.

“What about you?” Yuri asked.

“...Me?”

Yuri nodded. “Yeah. You said you’ve never dated anyone, but… you’ve had like one night stands and shit, right?”

“Uh, no,” Otabek mumbled. “I haven’t.”

But… surely Otabek wasn’t  _ actually _ a virgin. He was pretty hot (Yuri was willing to note that, objectively, Mila was right in this), and he was smart and kind and decent. “You… haven’t?”

“At all, ever, no.” Otabek cleared his throat and ate some of his pasta. “I’m not… exactly the most outgoing person, if you hadn’t noticed. And I spent… pretty much my whole life in the closet, and… well, you’ll probably make fun of me for this, but… I’m actually a hopeless romantic. When you get down to it.”

Hm. It made sense, Yuri supposed, and he could definitely see Otabek being a hopeless romantic with his ridiculous books and enjoyment of the same shitty movies Victor loved.

“So I want… I mean, when I… eventually… I want it to be with someone I care about, if not love. And who… feels the same for me.”

“Well,” Yuri tried. “That’s your choice. And it’s probably smarter than what Victor did. Although… if Victor were waiting for  _ love _ , he’d have been a twenty-eight-year-old virgin. I haven’t, either,” he added. “I dunno if I agree with the romantic bullshit, but… I just haven’t really thought about it much.”

“Well,” Otabek said. “You have time. A lot of your friends are probably lying about having had sex, anyway.”

“You think?”

“Probably,” Otabek clarified. “But a lot of people are in college the first time. Some are even older. And, for some reason, teenagers like to lie about having had sex to seem cool. I lied about it.”

“No you fucking didn’t,” Yuri said. That was Mila-level bullshit, maybe even  _ Georgi-level _ , and Otabek had always seemed so… rational and put-together.

“Oh, I did,” Otabek said. “I went to summer camp, a few years, and I was a councillor in high school. It was way over here on the East Coast – in upstate New York – and no one else from my school was there, so… junior year, I lied and said I’d slept with a girl who was also a councillor. It was total bullshit, of course.”

“Didn’t you get found out, though?”

“Nah. I said I never got her MySpace, and that she didn’t have a Facebook, but it was just a summer thing.” Otabek took a sip of his Pepsi. “And I totally made her up, too. People with more foresight than I had would lie about one-night stands with nameless strangers which… amazingly, never seemed to happen again.”

“So what’d you say?”

Otabek blushed. “Keep in mind, this was all fake. This girl never existed.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I said her name was Julia, she was from Philadelphia – that way I could bullshit a little better – uh, long blonde hair, green eyes, I might’ve… said she looked like Rachel McAdams.”

Yuri actually snorted at that. Rachel McAdams. He remembered Victor’s  _ Mean Girls _ phase, even though he’d been out of high school for years at that point.

“I know. Said it was a secret because she was Jewish and my parents wouldn’t approve.”

“Your grandmother is  _ literally _ bukharian Jewish.”

“Yeah, but that’s my paternal grandmother, and my grandfather was Kazakh, so my dad was raised Muslim. And besides,” Otabek said. “No one at my school knew that.”

“I’m just saying,” Yuri said, “you could’ve gone with Christian. I think even Ded would be a little disappointed if I married a Christian.”

“Well, I’ll remember that for my next fake relationship,” Otabek teased. “Anyway. Yeah. A lot of teenagers lie about having sex in high school. And I was one of them.”

“But you’ve never had sex.”

“Correct.”

“And you’re gay.”

“Also correct.”

“So what did you do when you were asked for details? Since you’re not even interested in women?”

Otabek shrugged. “Pulled some stuff from movies. And I mean  _ normal movies _ ,” he added, as if he knew right where Yuri’s brain was going (and could you blame him?). “Books, too.”

“I can’t fucking believe you told everyone you slept with a  _ girl _ ,” Yuri laughed. “And people  _ believed you _ ?”

“Sure,” Otabek said. “I only told my friends.”

“You weren’t even out to your  _ friends _ ?”

Otabek shrugged.

“No, seriously. Beka,” he tried, “I tell Mila just about everything. And she’s an annoying hag.”

“Is it… the more you insult someone, the more you love them?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Yuri said.

“It wasn’t like it was as simple as not trusting my friends. I wasn’t comfortable with it myself. I’m still not entirely. Being around you and Victor’s helped a lot, though. And I go to meetings for the LGBT club at school. You grew up around  _ Victor _ , who is, as you’ve so lovingly said, the gayest man alive.”

“I guess I just don’t get it,” Yuri said. “...Were you the Mickey?”

Otabek snorted. “No, I wasn’t the Mickey. My friends were all straight.”

“Shit, that sucks,” Yuri said.

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed. “But it’s over. Maybe I’ll go back for Thanksgiving next year, but until then… I don’t have to worry about any of that. I’m happy with where I am.”

“Beka,” Yuri said. He liked how the diminutive felt on his tongue. “Are you… actually, y’know, out?”

“More or less,” Otabek said. “I try not to hide it, and I don’t mind discussing it with people I trust, but… it’s not like I tell everyone.”

People he trusted? Did that mean he trusted Yuri? Stupid. Of course he trusted him. He’d made that perfectly clear. “Oh,” Yuri said.  “I mean, I’m… out to everyone. Most people can figure it out without me telling them, and I think you were the only person who was surprised… and I’m pretty sure that was a special case.”

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed. “ _ Definitely _ a special case.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling more comfortable, though,” Yuri said. “I wouldn’t wish being in the closet on anyone.”

“Thanks,” Otabek said.

“I mean,” Yuri said. “It’s the truth.”

Otabek actually smiled at him, and Yuri’s traitorous brain thought that if this was what it was like to be on a date with Otabek, it wouldn’t be so bad. Even though it was Otabek. But that was a ridiculous thought. It was  _ Otabek.  _ Even if he weren’t an insufferable ass, dating Otabek would mean Mila and Victor were right, and they’d be insufferable and, frankly, Yuri simply couldn’t stand for that.

Besides, it wasn’t like Otabek actually  _ liked  _ him. Not like that. They were friends, but that was it. 

* * *

The next day, they went to the National Zoo. It was crowded, even though it was January, but Yuri delighted in seeing all of the animals, especially the big cats. Otabek wanted to be sure to see the giant pandas.

“I’ve never seen one before,” Otabek had said on the way to the zoo.

“I’m pretty sure they have pandas in zoos in California.”

“I’ve never seen one.”

And so they saw the pandas. It wasn’t like Yuri didn’t like pandas – all animals were better than people, no matter what kind of animals they were – but they were pretty boring. All they did was  _ lay there.  _

Yuri was much more excited to see all of the cats. “I love  _ all  _ cats,” Yuri said as he looked longingly at the tigers. “No matter how small.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Otabek drawled. Yuri swatted at him, and the treasonous thought that this was  _ nice _ resurfaced. But Yuri wouldn’t succumb to that line of thinking – not consciously, at least. 

So if his heart skipped a beat when Otabek, unprompted, bought him a tiger plushie in one of the gift shops, well, maybe Yuri was just developing a heart condition. That was all there was to it. 

* * *

That night, they went out for dinner in Chinatown. Yuri felt mostly normal, and his texts to Mila hadn’t made any mention of his new heart condition. Or the fact that he kept noticing Otabek  _ looking  _ at him. He was sure it was nothing, after all. 

“So, uh,” Otabek started halfway through dinner. “You were trying to set Isabella up with Seung-Gil, right?”

Yuri shrugged. “Depends. Will I get a fucking lecture?”

“No,” Otabek said. “Just curious.”

“I mean, I was, yeah. Isabella’s hot and I was trying to set her up with an appropriate guy before someone got the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea?”

“Mostly,” Yuri said, “that a punk should date non-punks.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “You believe that?”

“Look. Fucking JJ made a move on her the first day. Jocks are their own deal. There’s some overlap with band geeks and, much as I hate to admit it, theatre kids, but not with jocks or rednecks. Seung-Gil’s cool, too, so he’d have boosted Bella’s popularity. but it’s whatever.”

“So you’d date a band geek?”

Yuri snorted. “I didn’t say  _ that _ . I don’t date high schoolers.”

“So you… date college students?” Otabek asked, eyes wide. Yuri couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, but… well, Otabek’s face  _ was _ awfully red. “You’re  _ fifteen _ .”

Yuri shrugged. “Sixteen in a little over a month. High school guys are… well, you were in high school a year ago.”

“It’s not like guys magically get more mature in the summer between high school and college.”

“Well, all the guys in my school are… not remotely the type of guys I’d date.” Yuri said with a shrug. “It’s not a hard and fast rule. But generally…”

“Generally what?” Otabek asked.

“I don’t like high school boys.”

Otabek didn’t reply immediately. Yuri was about to change the subject, when Otabek said, “What about high school girls?”

Yuri shrugged. “There really aren’t any I’d date at my school. Not  _ date _ .”

“Not even Isabella?”

Yuri snorted. “Bella? I mean, sure, she’s hot, and she’s the perfect blend of bitchy and supportive, but… I dunno, I’m not really interested in her like that. Sometimes that happens. Like… someone’s great, but you’re just not interested in them. Bella’s like that.”

“I see…” Otabek said, turning back to his meal.

“Does it really look like I like her like that?” Yuri asked, stabbing a piece of chicken with a chopstick and eating it speared.

“You do talk about how hot she is a lot.”

Yuri shrugged. “She  _ is _ hot. Mila’s hot, too, but she’s practically my sister,  _ and _ she has a girlfriend. Doesn’t mean I’d date either of them.” He took a sip of his soda. “Besides… Bella talks about sex  _ a lot _ .”

Otabek’s eyebrows shot up. “Does she.”

“Oh, yeah. And, as we’ve established, if I do ever have sex with a girl, it’s not going to be until after I’m done high school. So even if I were interested in Bella – which, again, I’m not – I wouldn’t date her.”

“I see.”

“What about you?” Yuri asked, mostly for the sake of conversation.

“Would I date your friend?”

“No,” Yuri scoffed. “Do you like anyone?”

Otabek didn’t meet Yuri’s eyes, and didn’t reply for a few seconds. “Uh, yeah,” he said, “but… I don’t know if it’ll go anywhere.”

Yuri wasn’t sure why, but Otabek’s admission made him feel uncomfortable. “Oh.”

“It’s not… Victor, or anyone, don’t worry.”

Yuri snorted. “I didn’t think it was  _ Victor _ . He’s ancient, and melodramatic, and balding.”

Otabek smiled. “Honestly… I kind of feel bad for his boyfriend. Getting thrown into… everything that is Victor with no real prior exposure.”

“Emil says he’s just as bad.”

“ _ Really _ ?”

Yuri nodded. “Says Katsuki’s more low-key, but every bit as insufferable. I mean. The guy did study to become an  _ opera singer _ . Performers by nature aren’t exactly lacking in the drama department.”

Otabek snorted. “That’s true.”

“So why do you like this guy?”

Otabek paused. “He’s… intense. Really passionate.”

Sounded annoying. And the way Otabek softened… Yuri felt annoyed at that, and he wasn’t quite sure why. He was the one who’d asked. “So, what, he’s a troll?”

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “Are you  _ jealous _ ?”

“Of fucking  _ course _ not,” Yuri said with a scoff. “But usually when people list their crush’s personality first… it means they’re not very attractive.”

“He’s  _ very _ attractive,” Otabek argued. “But that’s not why I started liking him.”

“Talk to him at all over break?” Yuri asked, trying his best to seem disinterested. Wait, why did he  _ care _ about seeming disinterested?

“A little, yeah,” Otabek said. “Anyway, this is pointless. I doubt it’ll go anywhere, so I really need to just forget it.”

“Are you fucking  _ serious _ ?” Yuri said. “Christ, okay, that might’ve worked when you were in the closet, but… it’s at least worth seeing if this guy likes dudes.” He didn’t know why he was encouraging this, but… he knew that he didn’t like Otabek just  _ assuming _ that his crush would go nowhere. “And if he doesn’t, he doesn’t. If he does…”

“ _ If _ he does, it still won’t go anywhere.”

“Why not?”

Otabek shrugged and gestured vaguely. “It just wouldn’t.”

“Otabek. You, like, do realise that you’re smart, nice, well off, and not completely unfortunate-looking, right?”

“Yuri, please drop it. I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Otabek said. “I’m not going to make a move. It… wouldn’t work out with this guy. Trust me. You don’t even know anything about him.”

“Well, regardless,” Yuri said. “If he likes guys and doesn’t want to date you, then he’s the one missing out.”

Yuri felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he realised what he’d said, but a glance at Otabek showed that the older boy had turned the approximate shade of a tomato.

“Thanks, Yura,” Otabek said after a few minutes. “Anyway… tomorrow we’ll go to the Smithsonian. I wanted to check out Dumbarton Oakes, too, if we have time.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a museum. Pre-Columbian artifacts.”

Yuri snorted. “God, you’re such a fucking nerd. Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 And you can listen to that mix [HERE](https://open.spotify.com/user/helle--/playlist/4rDTQfxaaNRpcTLPdwCDOR?si=TGQuMTN5%20)! [return to text]  
> 2 Challah buns are little rolls of happiness. Googling to get an image showed me [this recipe](http://www.thecandidappetite.com/2014/06/30/mini-challah-rolls/). [return to text]  
> 3 Pennsylvania. Only no one calls it Pennsylvania (or takes the time to type/write that shit out) and everyone just calls it PA because who has time for all that? [return to text]  
> 


	10. Two Truths And A Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the D.C. trip. Yuri opens a bottle of vodka and plays a game with Otabek.

When they got back to the room, it was still relatively early. Yuri dove into his bag and pulled out the bottle of vodka he’d stolen from the party. “Otabek!”

Otabek heaved a sigh. “You really brought the bottle of vodka?”

Yuri shrugged. “Didn’t want Ded to find it if he did laundry. Wanna drink?”

“I was going to get a shower.”

Yuri huffed. “Fine. After, then. And I won’t get started without you.”

Otabek collected some of his things and went into the bathroom. Yuri flipped the TV on. He didn’t really understand why he’d been so annoyed earlier, and he was trying hard not to think too much on it. Victor overthought shit all the time and who the hell knew if that kind of shit was genetic? It’d be just Yuri’s luck.

He pulled out his phone and texted Mila and Bella.

> To: Milushaaa <333, Bella!!
> 
> help me im dying of boredom
> 
>  
> 
> From: Bella!!
> 
> You’re actually in a city. I’m the one dying of boredom.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Bella!!
> 
> otabek left me alone to go shower and now i dont know what to do.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Bella!!
> 
> Jerk off?
> 
>  
> 
> To: Bella!!
> 
> bella hes literally right in the bathroom im not gonna jerk off with him so close.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Bella!!
> 
> Idk then read, or something. I’m doing chem homework
> 
>  
> 
> To: Bella
> 
> ugh no thanks

He put his phone aside and flipped through the channels. He’d managed five seconds of that when his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from Mila.

> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> im sure theres something otabek could do to help u with your boredom ;) 
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> shut up.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> besides he said today he has a crush on someone anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> yeah. on you. it’s not exactly a secret.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> and I heard that kazakh guys pack.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> 1\. holy fuck of course its not me. why would he have a crush on me???? 2. fuck off youre getting to be as gross as bella and thats saying something.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> yuri. you are on a date with Otabek. he’s in love with you. embrace it.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> its not a date and hes not in love with me. if you dont fucking stop im going to tell everyone the slanderous garbage youre spewing.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> then everyone will agree with me :D
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> fuck off mila.

He flipped his phone shut with as much force as he could muster and chucked it across the room. Fucking Mila. There was no way Otabek had a crush on  _ him _ , and there was no way this trip was a date. He was sure that when he and Mila were old enough to book hotel rooms, they’d take trips together like this, too.

Of course, they’d split the bills, but Yuri’d only agreed to go if Otabek paid, so it wasn’t like Otabek paying meant it was a  _ date _ .

And there it was again. That stupid sentiment.  _ Dating Otabek wouldn’t be so bad _ . Of course it wouldn’t be  _ bad _ ; Otabek was a decent person, and what Yuri had said about him being smart and nice and well-off and attractive was true. And, sure, Otabek was a college student, and he was more mature than most of the people Yuri hung out with. But… the idea was absurd.

Otabek came out of the bathroom, dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt which Yuri assumed was from his high school (it advertised  _ South Pasadena High School _ , anyway). It wasn’t necessarily an image Yuri wasn’t used to; Otabek had stayed with him and Ded for a little under a month. He’d obviously showered in that time, and Yuri’d seen him fresh out of the shower before.

But, well, shit, Otabek pushed his damp hair back out of his face and smiled at him, and Yuri had to jump up. “Uh, I’m gonna get a shower, too! Didn’t get one last night, so I should probably… I’ll see you in a bit!”

He grabbed his shower things from his bag and darted into the bathroom.

What the fuck was  _ wrong _ with him?

* * *

Yuri realised after his  _ very _ cold shower that he’d completely neglected to bring any sort of clothes with him. Otabek had left him a towel, so it wasn’t like Yuri was going to walk out there  _ naked _ , but… well, it was still weird. Still, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. He towel dried his hair the best he could, wrapped the towel around his waist, and went out into the room.

Otabek was on his laptop, and glanced up when Yuri came back in. “I forgot clothes,” Yuri grumbled, delving into his suitcase for a pair of boxer briefs and sweatpants.

“Right,” Otabek said.

Yuri hurried back to the bathroom and got changed. He left the towel on the floor, and went back out into the room again. He got his hairbrush out of the bag and brushed through his hair.

“Yura.”

“Hm?”

“Any reason your phone was on the ground by the bathroom door?”

“I threw it,” Yuri said, focusing on a knot. “Mila was being annoying.”

“Sure,” Otabek said, not taking his eyes off of his computer.

“What are you doing?”

“Mixing music,” was not the answer that Yuri had remotely anticipated, but it was the answer that Otabek gave.

Yuri went over to Otabek’s bed and sat down next to him, trying to get a good look at his computer. He was running some program that made no sense at all to Yuri. “You mix music?”

“I DJ in my spare time.”

Holy  _ shit _ that was cool. That was actually fucking  _ cool _ . Since when was Otabek  _ cool _ ? “You any good?”

Otabek smirked. “I like to think so.”

“So… why are you studying literature if you do this?”

“Contrary to popular belief, Yura, it’s entirely possible to be good at and enjoy two separate things.” He did something on the computer which Yuri didn’t understand. “I mean,” Otabek said, “I’m supposed to be DJing at Woody’s next month.”

_ Woody’s _ was a name that Yuri knew well. “Victor goes there. Or  _ went _ there. I don’t know anymore with his new boyfriend.”

“I’m not surprised,” Otabek said. “It’s just one set.”

“Still, holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed.

Yuri realised then how close they were – almost touching shoulders. “Uh, anyway, I’m gonna open the vodka. Want some?”

“Sure. Let me finish this first.”

And so Yuri waited twenty agonising minutes (during which he at least  _ attempted _ to do some of his homework) for Otabek to finish whatever mixing or whatever he was doing. When Otabek shut his laptop, Yuri jumped up from his homework. “Ready?”

“All right, sure,” Otabek said. “But we shouldn’t get drunk.”

“Well, yeah,” Yuri said. He grabbed the bottle of vodka and two of the room’s water glasses. He thrust the glasses into Otabek’s hands. Otabek held the glasses while Yuri filled them.

“Holy shit; we don’t need that much.”

Yuri shrugged and topped the glasses off before screwing the cap back on the bottle of vodka and setting it on top of the dresser. Otabek handed him one of the glasses.

“За здоровье,” Otabek said.

“L’chaim, motherfucker.”

They drank.

Shit, it was fucking  _ awful _ . Yuri nearly spit it out. What the fuck  _ was  _ this? He looked over at Otabek, who seemed to be having a nicer time of it. Yuri managed to swallow his mouthful of vodka.

“Never had vodka before, huh?”

“You  _ have _ ? I thought you were a boring goody two-shoes.”

Otabek picked the bottle up from the dresser. “Pinnacle. Okay. Yeah, that’s not too bad.”

“Beka, seriously, when have you  _ drank _ ?”

Otabek shrugged. “My floormates and I went to a couple parties last semester. They had Burnett’s, which is like lighter fluid. Gets you drunk quick, though.”

“There’s vodka  _ worse _ than this?” Yuri asked.

“This isn’t  _ great _ vodka by any means,” Otabek said. “But, yes, there’s vodka worse than this.” He looked over the bottle again. “I’m pretty sure this was stolen from someone’s mom’s liquor cabinet, though. I don’t think anyone besides a middle aged woman would elect to buy Pinnacle Whipped vodka. It’s supposed to taste like whipped cream.”

“It fucking doesn’t,” Yuri grumbled. “So what other shit have you done that’d surprise me? Mr ‘I-DJ-in-my-spare-time-and-drink-vodka’?”

Otabek laughed. “All right,” he said. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game?”

“Two truths and a lie. We each come up with three statements about ourselves – two are true, one’s false – and if, for example, you guess the lie, I drink. If you say one of the truths is a lie, you drink.”

“Okay,” Yuri said. He grabbed the bottle of vodka and sat down on Otabek’s bed, leaning against the headboard. “So you start.”

“Okay,” Otabek agreed. He sat down across from Yuri. “One, my favorite band is the Rolling Stones. Two, my first celebrity crush was Leo DiCaprio. Three, I’ve seen every  _ Star Wars  _ movie at least three times.”

Yuri snorted. It had to be the Star Wars thing. That was too ridiculous. “Three. The Star Wars shit.”

Otabek grinned. “Gotta take a drink, Plisetsky.”

“What?” Yuri asked. “Come on. There’s no fucking way you’ve seen every  _ Star Wars _ movie three times.”

“You’re right,” Otabek said with a smirk. “I’ve seen the prequels probably ten times each.”

Yuri groaned and drank some of his vodka. “Fucking nerd.”

“Hey, I’ll admit that.”

“So which was it?”

“The first one. My favorite band is the Smiths.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. Okay, maybe that made sense. But still. “All right. My turn. Um… I’ve kissed Mila, my first wet dream was about Brendon Urie, I’ve walked in on Victor having sex before.”

Otabek hesitated. “I really hope it’s the last one.”

“Is that your final answer?” Yuri asked.

Otabek nodded. “Yeah.”

“Drink up.” As Otabek did so, Yuri told him, “It was the second one. That was Gerard Way.”

“How did you walk in on Victor?”

“I didn’t realise that’s what I walked in on until later,” Yuri said. “I was visiting Victor in Paris a few years ago, and I walked into his room at night without thinking to ask him to borrow his adaptor because I forgot mine.”

“Fuck.”

“He was fucking  _ humiliated _ . The worst, though, was that he tried to give me The Talk the next day. He locked the door after that.”

“So you kissed Mila?”

“Not, like, with tongue,” Yuri clarified. “Some guys wouldn’t leave her alone so I pretended to be her boyfriend, and they didn’t buy it until we kissed.” He shrugged. “Neither of us minded. Anyway,” he said. “It’s your turn.”

“Let me think… okay, my Hogwarts house if Hufflepuff, I had my first crush on a real boy when I was twelve, dogs are my favorite animal.”

Yuri thought about it. He thought that Otabek was a Hufflepuff, but that could be a trick. He  _ could _ very well be a Ravenclaw, if Yuri were honest. But then… “Dogs aren’t your favorite animal,” Yuri said. He thought that was the case, at least.

Otabek drank. “I like cats.”

“Good choice,” Yuri said. “Cats are the best.”

Otabek hummed in agreement. 

“So what about this boy?” Yuri asked.

Otabek hesitated. “Uh, it’s nothing.”

“You  _ always _ say that, Beka. I’m sure it’s not nothing. Your first real crush.”

Otabek shrugged. “Uh, I was twelve. He was… a little younger than me, I guess.”

“ _ Beka _ , you can’t just leave me with that. I’ll tell you  _ all about _ my first crush if you tell me about yours.”

“…Fine,” Otabek said after a few seconds. “I didn’t really know him that well, but… his name was… George.”

“That’s a stupid name,” Yuri said. “And he was  _ younger _ than you?”

“Yes,” Otabek said. He shrugged. “He was, uh, pretty bratty, in retrospect. But I’d never met anyone like him, before. He was… really intense, and I loved that.”

“I’m sensing a trend here,” Yuri deadpanned. “With intense guys.”

Otabek actually  _ blushed _ . “Uh, yeah, I guess so.” He drank some more of his vodka, even though he didn’t  _ need _ to. “I like intense guys. A-and blonds.”

Intense blonds, huh? Yuri snorted. “You better not have been lying about not having a crush on Victor.”

Otabek pulled a face. “I’ve never had a crush on Victor, I promise.” He took another sip of his vodka and finished the glass. He took the bottle and filled the glass up again. “Your turn.”

“It was Mila. I was six, she was seven and every bit as bossy and headstrong as she is now.” Yuri shrugged. “It went away when I got to know her. She was terrifying.”

“ _ Really _ ?” Otabek asked, drinking some more of the vodka. “But there’s nothing there now?”

Yuri snorted. “Fuck, no. I had terrible taste as a kid.”

“...It wasn’t  _ just _ Mila, was it?”

Well, fuck. Yuri didn’t know how Otabek had gotten so good at reading him. “Mila was my first crush,” Yuri said instead.

“And the first  _ boy _ you had a crush on…?”

Yuri swatted at him. “This stays in this room. Forever. No one else can ever know.”

Otabek raised his eyebrows. “Sure.”

“JJ Leroy.”

“That… guy you always complain about?”

“He’s  _ annoying _ , okay? I realised that pretty quickly. But…” Yuri started picking at the comforter. “I dunno, he was nice. And… when I was younger, it wasn’t like I had a lot of friends.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t like him anymore, or anything. And it was way before he was a stupid jock. Well, he was always stupid. It’s JJ.”

“So the fact that JJ likes Isabella doesn’t bother you?”

Yuri shrugged. “Not because of  _ that _ , but mostly because… I like Isabella, as a friend, and JJ is really fucking annoying and I don’t want to have to deal with him.”

“You ever tell him?” Otabek asked.

Yuri laughed. “ _ Fuck _ no. I wrote him a note to tell him to get out of my school, but I never  _ told _ him. Besides, even though I grew up with Victor… I was eight. I wasn’t about to just up and say I had a crush on another boy to anyone  _ besides _ Victor.”

“You wrote him a note to tell him to get out of your school?”

“He was really upset about it, too. The one time I actually felt bad about doing something to JJ. Made him cry.”

“Fuck, Yura, you made him  _ cry _ ?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Yuri protested, feeling defensive. “He was really nice and I didn’t want to process that it was a  _ crush _ , so I told him to fuck off.”

“Christ.”

“Anyway,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. “You told me about your first crush, I told you about mine. We’re even. No more talking about Jean-Jackass to ruin a perfectly good trip.”

“Fine, fine,” Otabek said. “I can’t believe you made him cry, though. God, are you the guy everyone’s afraid to say they like?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I don’t think so. Ask Seung-Gil. Although… maybe I did make him cry, but I would’ve let him down easy if he’d just… been fucking normal about it and not tried to fucking kiss me without asking.”

“That’s fair,” Otabek said.

Yuri finished his glass with a grimace and poured himself some more vodka. “What about you?”

Otabek blushed. “A couple of girls said they liked me in school, but… well, obviously I turned them down as gently as possible.”

Yuri drank some more of his vodka. “So, anyway, how long do you think until Victor whisks Katsuki away on some big romantic getaway?”

“Probably over spring break.”

“You getting kicked out of the dorms for that, too?” Yuri asked, sipping at his vodka. It really wasn’t so bad anymore. 

“Uh, yeah.”

“Stay with us. Clearly we already know you’re fine to share a room with me.”

Otabek blushed, although Yuri couldn’t fathom why. “Thanks. I’ll ask Kolya.”

“And he’ll say yes,” Yuri said. 

Otabek smiled. “Yeah, I know, but I still want to ask.”

“You’re too nice, Beka,” Yuri said. And he couldn’t fucking explain it, but when Otabek’s eyes met his at that moment, Yuri felt strangely warm. Otabek’s gaze shifted to Yuri’s lips, and Yuri felt his breath catch in his throat. Holy shit, what was going on? They were really close – had they been this close the whole time? Yuri, without thinking, found himself focusing on Otabek’s lips. Shit, they looked soft. 

He could feel Otabek’s breath on his face. They’d definitely gotten closer. When had they gotten closer? Holy shit, were they going to kiss? It was  _ Otabek _ . He wasn’t going to actually kiss  _ Otabek _ , right? Otabek’s eyes fluttered shut, and Yuri, in a panic, shouted, “I REALLY NEED TO PISS!” and ran for the bathroom.

Holy  _ fuck _ .

* * *

The next day proved, if anything ever did, that it was literally impossible for things to be too awkward to function with Otabek. He didn’t make any mention of the night before, and if Yuri was dying a little inside, that was just because he couldn’t talk this out with Mila without a huge fucking song and dance about how she was right. (And she  _ wasn’t _ right; he  _ didn’t _ like Otabek like that, and Otabek liked someone else, anyway. It had just been the alcohol).

They went to a few museums, and things were actually… normal between them. Yuri got some astronaut ice cream at the Air and Space Museum, and had even managed to avoid having Otabek pay for him (by pretending to be in the bathroom instead of the gift shop, but that was neither here nor there).

They found themselves at an Indian restaurant for an early dinner, and Yuri had to admit he’d eaten a wider variety of food in one weekend than he’d eaten in the past six months. “Indian restaurants are great,” Otabek said, “because there are a lot of vegetarians in India, so there’s a lot of different things I can actually eat.”

“You have a favorite place in Philly?”

“There are a few that I like, but I don’t know about a favorite yet.”

Yuri hummed.

“Are you excited for Tuesday?”

“Yeah, actually,” Yuri said. “Should be pretty cool, although with how short we both are… we probably won’t see much of anything.”

“I have tickets,” Otabek said. “We’ll be close. We have to get there at eight on Tuesday, but… we’ll get to see it.” 

“Wait, shit, really?”

“Sure,” Otabek said. “I mean, I’d have come down, anyway, but… we have two tickets to the inauguration.” He sipped at his mango lassi. 

“Oh, shit. That’s… actually pretty cool.”

“Any presidential inauguration is historic, but this one is doubly so. First black president.”

Yuri nodded. “Well, I’m glad I’ll be here and not stuck in Victor’s gayborhood apartment with his crying and his friends.”

“So he is actually having a party?”

“Yep. Mentioned in in class on Friday. He said he’s watching it during his free periods at school, and then he’s having a party Tuesday night.”

“You’re not pissed about having to be there at eight?”

Yuri shrugged. “It’s a school day. Even though I’m not going to school. I’m used to having to be places at eight AM on a Tuesday, unfortunately.”

“We’ll be outside for a few hours, so just be sure to dress warm.”

“Thanks, dad,” Yuri sniped.

“Hey, I just don’t want you complaining to me an hour in about how cold you are.”

Yuri stuck his tongue out at him. “Says the guy from LA.”

“Yura.”

“I  _ won’t _ .”

* * *

They decided to walk back to the hotel, even though it was January and fucking freezing. Yuri saw Otabek’s point about dressing warmly on Tuesday. 

They walked past the White House, and Otabek rolled his eyes at the statue of Andrew Jackson. “The only U.S. President to successfully campaign a genocide, and there’s a statue of him outside of the White House.”

“Genocide?” Yuri asked. He didn’t know anything about Jackson, but he sure as fucking hell knew what genocide meant.

Otabek nodded. “He campaigned genocide against Native Americans. He’s to blame for a lot of the terrible conditions surrounding them today.”

“And there’s a fucking statue of him facing the White House?”

“Apparently.”

“...I kind of want to tear it down.”

Otabek laughed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t want either of us to get arrested.”

“Fine, fine,” Yuri grumbled. “…I might do AP next year.”

“AP what?” Otabek asked as they continued walking.

“History. And English, too, whatever that’s technically called. They’re the only ones I  _ can _ take at this point.” 

“You should,” Otabek said. “I took APUSH and AP Lang and Comp, too, so if you need any help…”

“Thanks,” Yuri said.

“Of course.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. 

“Hey, Yura,” Otabek said when they reached the Regis. The crosswalk light was red, so they stopped.

“Hm?”

“I’m having a really good time.”

“Me, too,” Yuri said. 

“I’m glad you came with me.”

“Yeah, it’s been fun,” Yuri said. Except for the whole fucking… heart condition and almost kissing Otabek bullshit. That wasn’t so much fun as it was terrifying. But that had only happened a few times, and… well, things had been going back to normal so far.

“I, uh…”

The light changed, and Yuri went. Otabek followed him. “Yura.”

“Huh?”

“I…” Otabek rubbed the back of his neck.

Yuri’s phone started to ring. He checked the caller ID. “It’s Ded. Hold that thought.” He answered the call. “Hello?”

“Yurachka!” his grandfather said. “I’m just checking in.”

“Oh,” Yuri said. “Everything’s going great. We’re almost back at the hotel now.”

“You’re not giving Otabek too hard a time, are you?”

“Of course not,” Yuri said. How could his grandfather even suggest such a thing? Well, okay, sure, Yuri supposed, if it were Victor that’d be a valid question, but Otabek wasn’t Victor.

“Good. He’s a nice boy, Yurachka.”

“I know  _ that _ .” Otabek was  _ too _ fucking nice, if anything.

“I’m glad you do, because you can be hard on him.”

Yuri would have protested that if Otabek weren’t standing right next to him. “Look, Ded, we’re both fine. We’re gonna do some more sightseeing tomorrow, and then Tuesday morning’s the inauguration, and we’ll be back Tuesday night.”

“Pyotya misses you, so I gave her some extra wet food.”

“Ded, you can’t just… give her extra wet food because she  _ misses _ me. She’s smart. She’ll pretend to be sad all the time now.”

Otabek chuckled from next to Yuri.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell your poor cat that you don’t want her to have extra wet food.”

“ _ Ded _ ,” Yuri groaned.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday, Yurachka.”

“See you Tuesday.”

“I love you.”

Yuri looked around. They were in public. Otabek didn’t count. “А я люблю тебя.”

“Have a nice rest of your trip with Otabek.”

“Goodnight!” Yuri ended the call.

“Russian?” Otabek asked.

“We’re in  _ public _ . I don’t care if  _ you _ hear, but… I don’t want strangers hearing that shit.”

They walked back into the hotel lobby and went to the elevators. “So what were you saying, anyway?” Yuri asked.

Otabek rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Beka.”

“I was going to ask if you’d talked to your grandfather, if you must know. But then he called and answered my question.”

“Oh,” Yuri said.

* * *

Monday passed normally. They did some sightseeing, but a good chunk of the afternoon was spent in the hotel room, doing homework. They were, after all, both missing class on Tuesday for this (Monday, thankfully, being a public holiday), and while Yuri’s teachers and presumably, also, Otabek’s professors, had been okay with that, it did leave them both with a bit of extra homework.

Yuri got through his history and English homework pretty easily, and only texted Victor once while working on his French homework. (He supposed, really, that he was lucky that his teacher was also his cousin who was happy to answer genuine questions). His algebra homework was pretty easy, too, so he got through that quickly enough, too. When he was done, he stretched and turned to Otabek, who was, predictably, reading.

“You hungry?” Yuri asked.

Otabek hummed. “Why don’t we get room service?”

Yuri, for once, found that he wasn’t about to argue. “Probably should. I still have chem homework. Honors classes are  _ bullshit _ . We  _ just _ had midterms last week.”

“That tends to happen, yes,” Otabek said from his bed. “But so far, honestly… college has been much better than high school. The bare minimum doesn’t really work anymore, but there’s a lot more freedom.”

“I can’t  _ wait _ to be done high school. Never have to take fucking science again.”

“I mean,” Otabek said, “there are gen-eds. You’ll have to take those. But there aren’t nearly as many as there are in high school.”

“I’d settle for fewer,” Yuri said.

“So not looking for a science track career?”

“Not fucking likely. I’m not… bad at science, or anything, but I definitely enjoy it less.” Yuri stretched and went to the desk for the room service menu. “Think we could get away with ordering alcohol?”

“Doubt it,” Otabek said. “But feel free to get whatever else you want.”

“Otabek,” Yuri said, “how are you paying for all of this?”

“My parents gave me a credit card before I went off to college, and their extreme disappointment in me notwithstanding, they know if they cut me off, Anara and Erasyl would never let them hear the end of it.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’m going to see the inauguration of the president we  _ all _ voted for.”

“Aren’t they going to be suspicious when they look at the charges?”

“They never look at the charges. And if they do, so what?”

“Two of everything?”

Otabek shrugged. “My homophobic parents aren’t about to ask me if I took a romantic weekend to D.C. for the inauguration.”

But they  _ could _ , and surely Otabek knew that? Yuri didn’t want him to get into trouble, or get cut off. Sure, Ded would let Otabek stay with them, no questions asked, but that didn’t really mean _ much _ .

“They wouldn’t cut me off,” Otabek said, as if he were reading Yuri’s thoughts. “They’re homophobic and think this is some sort of bullshit rebellion, but I know for a fact that they wouldn’t leave me to fend for myself financially unless I had a job.”

That didn’t really make sense to Yuri, but he didn’t want to argue about it. He’d only met Otabek’s parents a couple of times, and didn’t know them well at all. “All right,” he said. “Whatever. So you’re saying I can get the steak?”

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “If you want.”

“Good to know.”

* * *

Yuri turned his alarm off when it went off on Tuesday morning. He’d meant to hit snooze, really. He almost managed to go back to sleep when Otabek started shaking his shoulder. “If you want to eat anything before we’re stuck outside in the freezing cold for three hours… you should probably get up now.”

Yuri grumbled, but rolled over and got out of the nice, warm bed. “Fine.”

He’d packed everything the previous night except the clothes he was going to wear today. That had been at Otabek’s insistence. Without so much as glancing at Otabek, Yuri changed into an army-green thermal with skull print, black Black Parade t-shirt, thick knee-high socks, warm jeans, his new Doc Martens, and the Slytherin hoodie Victor had gotten him for Chanukah. He’d throw on his coat, scarf, and gloves before he left the building, but there was no need for that now.

He put his dirty clothes in his suitcase, zipped it up, and turned to look at Otabek, who was fully dressed. He wore corduroys, boots, and a collared shirt tucked under a sweater. 

“So you’re fully embracing the gay aesthetic now?” Yuri teased.

“Might as well,” Otabek said with a shrug. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Yuri agreed.

After a final check around the room, they went down to the lobby, and Yuri had them hold their bags while Otabek checked out. They stopped at a Starbucks along the way, where Yuri got a muffin, a slice of lemon pound cake, and a peppermint mocha. Otabek got a cappuccino and a scone.

“We’ll get lunch after,” Otabek said. 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,  _ Beka _ ,” Yuri teased.

They made it to the capitol by seven thirty, and finished their drinks before the gates actually opened. 

Later, when Yuri watched recaps on television, he wouldn’t believe that he’d really been that close. He really did need to thank Otabek for that.


	11. Just A Matter of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri meets Kenjirou Minami and goes out to an under-twenty-one club.

Yuri had thought, or maybe rather hoped, that everything would go back to normal when they got back to Pennsylvania. That the weird heart condition and blushing and  _ almost fucking kissing Otabek _ had just been a side-effect of… something, in D.C., and that it’d disappear when they got back.

But then Yuri got back from school on Friday to find Otabek reading on the sofa.

It had been bad enough, all week, really, although he’d never admit it. Mickey and Emil were starting to be more affectionate at school, and it, for some reason, pissed Yuri off. Victor’s constant babbling about Katsuki was bad enough, but when he, on Thursday morning, said to Yuri, “Oh, Otabek came over for dinner last night! He said the two of you had a lovely time in D.C.!” in that fucking  _ tone _ of his, Yuri almost kicked him.

So, really, Yuri wasn’t thrilled when Otabek showed up on Friday afternoon. Even if his fucking heart condition was back. Apparently. Maybe he should go to a doctor. 

And then Otabek fucking  _ smiled _ at him, and Yuri had to swallow hard. “Uh, what’re you doing here?”

“Kolya invited me for services and dinner… and I thought I’d get out of Philly before rush hour.”

That made sense. Of course it did.

“I was watching TV, if you want to join me.”

Yuri wasn’t sure he’d survive that. What the fuck was  _ wrong _ with him? “I should really do my homework before shabbat,” he said instead, like Otabek didn’t  _ know _ he didn’t actually give a shit about observing shabbat.

But Otabek didn’t argue, and Yuri slipped into his room and shut the door behind him. He felt like a dick, but what was he supposed to do? It was  _ Otabek _ . Yuri lay down on his bed and thought about what the fuck he could do. 

And then he fucking remembered. The new kid in his art and chemistry classes. What was his name? Kenji, or something?

Emil was in his art class, and Emil was the weird kind of friendly that just didn’t  _ work _ on the east coast, but… maybe it was useful for something.

> To: Emil
> 
> hey whats the deal with the new kid in our art class?
> 
>  
> 
> From: Emil
> 
> Kenjirou?
> 
>  
> 
> To: Emil
> 
> yeah.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Emil
> 
> Well, his parents got divorced, and their settlement was that Kenjirou gets to spend half of the school year from now on here. The other half he’s in Chicago.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Emil
> 
> ...hes passably cool. do you have his number?
> 
>  
> 
> From: Emil
> 
> Sure.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Emil
> 
> invite him to sit with us on monday.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Emil
> 
> Done!
> 
>  
> 
> To: Emil
> 
> ill let you get back to sucking mickey off.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Emil
> 
> A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. Or suck and tell, as it were.

Yuri snorted at that and pocketed his phone. Okay. So he had a plan. He’d date the new kid until things with Otabek went back to normal. That would work, right?

Because there was no fucking way he’d let Victor and Mila be right. They weren’t. This was some stupid… passing thing.

Yuri groaned and pulled out his binders. Might as well actually try to get some homework done.

* * *

On Monday, he made sure to remind Kenjirou in Art to sit at the cool table at lunch. Kenjirou, for his part, seemed thrilled with this idea. Good. As he should. Yuri wasn’t sure that he was actually  _ interested _ in Kenjirou, but, well, he was cute enough.

He talked a lot, though, and seemed very enthusiastic, but he would do. He was the only option, really, because Yuri certainly wasn’t going to date  _ Bella _ , and everyone else was taken. And Kenjirou had cool hair, too, so that was a plus.

“So, Kenjirou,” Yuri began once the other boy sat down at the lunch table. “What are your feelings on Gerard Way?”

“He’s hot,” Kenjirou agreed. “Why?”

“Yuri’s in love with Gerard Way and wants to make sure that all potential friends also are in love with him,” Mila said, rolling her eyes.

“I wouldn’t say I’m  _ in love with him _ ,” Kenjirou said. “But he’s hot.”

“That’s acceptable,” Yuri said.

“What’s  _ Otabek _ think about Gerard?”

Yuri elbowed Mila. “I have no idea.”

“A little birdie told me he went to services with you last weekend.”

Who the fuck had told her  _ that _ ? Unless… oh, fuck, she wasn’t somehow  _ talking _ to Otabek, was she?

“You forget that there are people in this school who go to the same synagogue as you, don’t you?” Mila asked. “Rebecca Rosenberg told me in English.”

Yuri wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to be a relief or not. “Well, Rebecca Rosenberg can shut her fucking mouth. Her bat mitzvah was shit, by the way. I’ve told you a million times: I’m not interested in Otabek. We’re friends, at best.”

“At best,” Mila scoffed. “You can’t even admit you’re  _ friends _ with the guy after you spend a four-day weekend together. If you can do that without killing each other, you’re friends.”

“Then we’re  _ just friends _ ,” Yuri said. “Drop it, Mila.”

“Fine, fine,” Mila said. “I told Becca that you two weren’t together, by the way.”

He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he thanked her nonetheless. He turned back to Kenjirou. “Mila’s trying to convince me that I’m in love with my ex-step-cousin. Who’s a pretentious ass.”

“I’m not disputing that he’s a pretentious ass,” Mila said with a shrug.

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Yuri said. “We usually hang out at the movie theatre on Fridays, and sometimes go into the city on Saturdays. There are a couple clubs that’ll let us in.”

“And a few bars that’ll serve us underage,” Sara added.

“Also important,” Yuri said. 

“Sounds rad,” Kenjirou said. “I’m in.”

Yuri grinned. “Great.”

* * *

And so, the next Friday after school, he came home to change into the sexiest thing he owned (tight black skinny jeans, a tight red v-neck, and his Docs) to go to Club 1310 in the city. Otabek was, again, on the couch when Yuri got home. They’d texted a few times in the past week – that was fine, more or less, Yuri realised. 

“I’m not going to services tonight,” Yuri said as he walked through the living room.

“You’re not?”

“My friends and I are showing the new kid to a nightclub. Mila’s coming to pick me up at seven.”

“Under twenty-one?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Of course. I’m not  _ stupid _ . And yes, Ded knows.”

“Okay,” Otabek said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, have fun.”

“I will.” 

“Well,” Otabek said. “Since you’re not going to services… do you want to watch TV or something?”

There was something in Otabek’s tone that made Yuri pause. “Uh, sure,” he said after a few seconds. “What’re you watching?”

“Right now? CNN.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Fucking nerd.”

“What would you propose instead?”

“I dunno,” Yuri said, “But not  _ news _ .”

Otabek was quiet for a few seconds, and then said, “We could always watch Victor’s videos.”

“Victor’s what now?” Yuri asked.

“His videos? On YouTube?”

Yuri blinked. What. What.  _ What _ . “What?”

“Did you… not know your cousin posts vlogs on YouTube?”

“Does this look like the face of someone who knew  _ that _ ?” He was sure, after all, that his expression was absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Otabek laughed, and fuck, it was like a fucking punch to Yuri’s gut. “Let me grab my laptop.”

So Otabek pulled his Macbook Pro out of his bag, opened up Chrome, and went to YouTube. He typed “poodlelover80” into the search bar, clicked go, and Yuri watched in fucking awe as videos featuring Victor’s face popped up.

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yeah, he talks about French language, lit, and culture. Among other things.” Otabek scrolled down to find a video in English. 

“Wait, hold on,” Yuri said.

Otabek did as Yuri asked, and didn’t start the video, as Yuri fished his phone out of his pocket and composed a new text message.

> To: Vitya
> 
> HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU MAKE YOUTUBE VIDEOS???? HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME???
> 
> To: Vitya
> 
> IM TELLING THE WHOLE CLASS BYE

“Okay, now we can start.”

Otabek clicked on the video, and Yuri immediately recognised Victor’s living room as the background. “Holy fucking  _ shit _ ,” Yuri said.

“Bonjour et bienvenue,” Victor called in the video, “au nouveau vidéo de  _ Vitya à Philadelphie _ !”

“I’m gonna die,” Yuri whined.

“Now, as most of you know, I recently started teaching high school French after a few years of splitting my time between modelling – and studying – in Paris and spending my summers with my lovely family in Philadelphia. I miss living in Paris terribly, of course, but at least now I get to spend plenty of time with my little cousin!”

“Holy shit, does he  _ talk about me online _ ?”

“In quite a few videos, yeah,” Otabek said.

“Makka’s loving the stability, and I can’t say I blame her!”

“Is this just four and a half minutes of Victor talking about his life?”

“That is what vlogging tends to be, yeah.”

“Boring,” Yuri said. He took the computer from Otabek, clicked on Victor’s username, and scrolled through his videos. “Ooh, he just uploaded one about the inauguration. It looks like he’s crying in the still.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Otabek said a bit too quickly. “Look! Here’s one where he talks about a movie!”

“Ugh, fine,” Yuri said. He clicked on the video and watched Victor gush on about  _ Joyeux Noël _ for five minutes. He could always watch Victor’s video about the inauguration later, anyway. He knew how to find them now.

* * *

Yuri didn’t, as a rule, like under-twenty-one clubs. He didn’t like clubs in general, or parties. But he was there for a reason. Mila needled him about it, but Yuri managed to remain strategically silent on the matter.

Of course, not liking clubs meant that he wasn’t really having a great time. He tried to hide it; the last thing he needed was Mila lording this over him. He danced with Kenjirou, Mila, Sara, and Bella. He vaguely registered that Emil and Mickey had snuck off somewhere. 

He took a break for a drink and checked his phone. He had a couple of texts from Otabek.

> From: Otabek
> 
> It happened. I’m now expected to call Kolya “Dedushka”.

Yuri snorted.

> To: Otabek
> 
> told you it was just a matter of time.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Otabek
> 
> I was also asked where you were by no less than five people.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Otabek
> 
> did you tell them i was at a nightclub?
> 
>  
> 
> From: Otabek
> 
> No. I said you were with some friends.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Otabek
> 
> Apparently everyone thinks we’re dating?
> 
>  
> 
> To: Otabek
> 
> so ive noticed.

Otabek didn’t reply after that, so Yuri stuck his phone in his pocket and drank his overpriced bottle of water. He understood, really, why an under-twenty-one club wouldn’t let teenagers bring in their own drinks, but they could at least charge decent prices for  _ water _ .

Mila waltzed over to him. “Talking to Otabek?”

“Just checking my texts,” Yuri said.

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

“He just texted me to say that Ded asked him to call him  _ dedushka _ . So I said it was a matter of time, which it was.”

“I could say a million things about that,” Mila said. “But I won’t, because you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mila.” Especially if she wasn’t going to fucking badger him about Otabek tonight.

“So… Kenjirou, huh?”

Yuri shrugged. “Might as well get some dating experience in before college.”

“...Okay, I know I said I’d drop it, but… Otabek didn’t reject you, did he?”

Yuri snorted and rolled his eyes. “There’d be nothing  _ to _ reject. So no, he didn’t.” In fact, it was almost the opposite problem; he was trying to spend less time with Otabek, and Otabek, in turn, was fucking  _ everywhere _ . “I’ve told you a million times that I’m not interested in him.”

“Okay, okay,” Mila said, holding her hands up in surrender. “Just saying…”

“I’m fine, Milusha. I just hadn’t thought about dating before… but I deserve someone for myself. I’m still looking for someone for Bella, too, but…”

“I don’t want you getting hurt,” Mila said. “But obviously I’m fucking awful at convincing you of anything. So just be careful, okay?”

“I’m always careful,” Yuri said.

 

* * *

The next Wednesday, he got a text from Otabek.

> From: Otabek
> 
> DJing at the Troc on Saturday at eight. I’d love it if you could be there. Bring your friends, too.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Otabek
> 
> bet your ass ill be there. ill tell everyone at lunch tomorrow.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Otabek
> 
> I’ll see you there, then :)

He didn’t know why Otabek had to go and add a stupid smiley face to his text, or why it affected him at all.

So, really, he did the next best thing. He texted his friends.

> To: Milushaaa <333, Bella!!, Emil, Kenjirou, Sara, Mickey Mouse
> 
> otabeks playing at the troc on saturday night if you want to go. im not texting georgi or seung gil but if you guys wanna invite them you can
> 
>  
> 
> From: Emil
> 
> Sounds cool! Mickey and I will be there!
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> OTABEK, hmm?? not meddling. okay. ill be there & give you a ride.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Bella!!
> 
> The troc?? I’m not sure what that is but I’m happy to go! Should be fun!
> 
>  
> 
> From: Mickey Mouse
> 
> you realise the mistake youve made inviting Emil to a fucking nightclub right? now ive gotta go to make sure he doesnt get in trouble
> 
>  
> 
> From: Sara
> 
> Sounds like a lot of fun!!! I love clubbing, and Mickey needs to spend less time whining.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Kenjirou
> 
> I’ll be there!

Perfect. Now Yuri just needed to find an even hotter outfit. He texted Mila.

> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> hot topic?
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> i’ll be over in 10.

* * *

It was an all-ages show. From what Yuri was able to glean, it was a night with various DJs. The Troc wasn’t, strictly speaking, a nightclub. It was more of a concert venue, but… well, Yuri couldn’t really get into a lot of the clubs in the city, anyway. Even the handful that had under-twenty-one nights almost all still carded to make sure you were eighteen. Which was fucking bullshit, of course, but that was neither here nor there.

With his Hot Topic gift card, Yuri had gotten new plaid skinny Tripp pants, which he paired with a black tank under a black fishnet shirt. If it were summer, maybe he’d just go for the fishnet shirt, but since it was barely February, he had to be somewhat smart about what he wore. Of course, he paired all of this with his Docs, which he’d scarcely gone a day without since he’d gotten them. He really needed to thank Victor for them.

Mila picked him and Isabella up with plenty of time to spare, and then they met up at Emil’s house to pile into his mother’s minivan. The benefits of going to an all-ages show at a concert venue in the city meant that none of them had to lie to their parents, so Emil was able to convince his mother to let Mickey (who, of course, had a perfect driving record) drive them all to the nearest SEPTA station.

From 30th Street, they took SEPTA to Market East, and walked down Arch Street to the Troc. Yuri made sure to hang around Kenjirou. It was pretty easy; almost everyone else had paired off: Mila with Sara, Emil with Mickey, and Isabella was talking to Seung-Gil, who’d avoided Yuri like the plague since the party a month prior.

“Philly’s pretty okay,” Kenjirou was saying. “I mean, when I say I’m from Chicago, I’m from the suburbs, and it’s even more of a pain in the ass to get into the city, but I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, Philly’s okay,” Yuri said.

“It’s weird, though, spending the year split between two different cities. I guess I’m just lucky my parents didn’t hate each other enough to move to a totally different country.”

Yuri wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just nodded.

“It was a really messy divorce,” Kenjirou clarified. “Really messy. They really hate each other.”

“That sucks,” Yuri tried. 

“Right?” Kenjirou said. “It’s like they don’t understand I’m stuck in the middle of it all. But again, I guess it’s not too bad. At least they came to an agreement, and everyone here is really nice. My mom was worried I wouldn’t fit in, but I fit right in with you guys!”

“Uh, right,” Yuri said. He wasn’t sure he’d go  _ that _ far, but no one seemed to  _ mind _ him. Besides, Emil was obnoxiously friendly. It was probably just a midwestern thing. Obnoxious friendliness. Shit, maybe he  _ should have _ let Seung-Gil kiss him. At least Seung-Gil knew when to shut the fuck up.

“And I’ve gotten  _ so _ many compliments on my hair!”

Well, Yuri had to admit that Kenjirou had cool hair. “Yeah,” he said. “Your hair’s really cool.”

“My mom’s a cosmetologist, so she did it for free! I’ll probably have to get a touch-up while I’m here, though. My hair’s naturally black, so blonde’s kinda hard to do, and then the roots grow in…”

Yuri nodded. “We did Bella’s hair, me and Mila.”

“Oh,  _ cool _ !” Kenjirou said. “Bella’s hair’s so cool, too! I like being blonde, but I considered those… what are they called, the stripey things? They look cool!”

“Raccoon tails,” Yuri answered. He realised with a sigh of relief that they’d reached the venue. Thank fucking  _ god _ .

“So who’s this guy we’re seeing?”

“Family friend,” Yuri said. “He studies at Penn.”

“Music?”

Yuri shook his head. “Literature.”

“Wow,” Kenjirou said. “I want to study  _ music _ . I play clarinet!”

“Right, you’re in band with Emil.”

Kenjirou nodded enthusiastically. “And I  _ really _ love Mr. Katsuki! He’s so cool!”

“He’s dating my cousin,” Yuri said. 

Kenjirou actually seemed to deflate at that. Really? Fucking  _ Katsuki _ ? “Oh. Well, he’s really cool! He said he’d write a letter of recommendation for me!”

“You’re a sophomore,” Yuri said. “You don’t need that shit until next year at least.”

“It never hurts to ask!” Kenjirou said. “Besides, I was kind of worried… well, suburbs, you think white.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I mean, I guess?”

“It’s nice, because he’s actually  _ from _ Japan! And I got to speak Japanese with him! He was really impressed, but I used to go to Japan every summer.”

“Uh-huh,” Yuri said. “That’s cool.”

“Have you ever been to Russia?”

If they weren’t in line, Yuri would have stopped short. “Russia?”

“You and Mila and Georgi are Russian, right?”

Yuri snorted. “Mila and Georgi are Russian. I’m a Russian  _ Jew _ . There’s a difference.”

“Oh,” Kenjirou said. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that my family history is full of pogroms and oppression at the hands of Russians.”

“Oh, shit,” Kenjirou said. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine, whatever.”

“I mean, I don’t really understand that,” Kenjirou continued, “but I should’ve asked.”

“It’s  _ fine _ .”

When the doors opened, Yuri was only too eager to stop talking.

* * *

Yuri had to admit… Otabek’s set had been  _ fantastic _ . He’d anticipated some dumb techno shit, but Otabek had actually used  _ rock music _ . Yuri had never heard anything like it. The DJ who came on after him really wasn’t anywhere near as good, but Yuri stuck around.

He ran into Georgi, who was wearing pretty much the same exact outfit Yuri had worn to Club 1310. He’d texted Mila about it and rolled his eyes. Honestly, what a fucking poser. 

He saw Seung-Gil dancing with some guy. Of course Seung-Gil had ditched Bella. He went to find her. It was the least he could do, really.

After a few minutes of looking around, he found Isabella near the bar, talking to Otabek.

“Hey,” he said.

Otabek turned to him and smiled. “Yura, hey! I’m glad you came!”

“You had a great set,” Yuri said. “Glad I came, too.” He turned to Bella. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Bella said. “Seung-Gil blew me off, but then Otabek came over and we started talking, so I’m fine.”

“Good,” Yuri said.

“Uh,” Otabek said. “I’ll leave you two to have fun.”

Yuri waved him off. “That was nice of him,” he said.

“Yeah,” Bella said. “He’s really nice.”

“Yeah,” Yuri agreed. “He is.” Otabek was maybe too nice, really, but… that was neither here nor there.

* * *

Around eleven, Yuri realised that, maybe, he should get going. Emil, unfortunately, was nowhere to be found, and neither was Mickey. He had two guesses where they were. Mila was still dancing with Sara. He didn’t know or care where Seung-Gil and Georgi were, and Minami was dancing in the crowd.

He looked around for someone he knew, and found Otabek talking to someone who  _ had _ to be a mom of one of the kids dancing in the crowd. Leave it to Otabek to find the only adult in there, like he was intentionally trying not to have fun.

Isabella was hovering awkwardly nearby, so Yuri walked over to them. “Hey,” he said.

“Yura!”

Yuri could actually  _ see _ how Otabek lit up. Shit, shit, shit. “Are you busy?”

“Not for you. What’s up?”

He didn’t want to say that he was tired (he was), or that he had a curfew (he did, and surely Otabek knew that). But he did want to go home and sleep cuddled up with Pyotya. “My designated driver and his boyfriend fucked off and I have no clue where they are,” Yuri said instead of any of that.

“I can give you a ride,” Otabek said without any hesitation, because of course he did.

“Great,” Yuri said. And then, because Isabella was right there, “Do you need a ride, too, Bella?”

“If you don’t mind,” she said to Otabek. “I have a curfew.”

“It’s not a problem at all,” Otabek said. “We just need to take SEPTA to my car.”

“Sure,” Yuri said. He texted Mila, who was surely going to wait for Mickey and Emil to come back from… wherever the fuck they were.

Ten minutes later, the three of them were outside, walking toward Market East. It was fucking  _ freezing, _ and Yuri shivered. He’d just  _ had _ to wear a fucking fishnet shirt.

“Here.”

Yuri didn’t fully realise what was happening until Otabek’s (presumably pleather, because Yuri couldn’t fathom someone as idealistic as Otabek wearing real leather) jacket was draped over his shoulders. Holy fucking shit.

“I’m not sure why you thought that shirt was a good idea.”

Yuri shrugged. “It looked cool in the store.”

“It’s barely February.”

Yuri tucked his arms into the sleeves of Otabek’s jacket. It was warm, likely because Otabek had  _ just _ been wearing it. Holy fucking shit. Yuri shrugged again. “Didn’t really realise we were taking SEPTA in.”

Otabek hummed. “Isabella brought a jacket.”

Yuri wanted to grumble that Bella’s outfit wasn’t anywhere near as hot as his, but first of all, he wasn’t about to tear his friend down like that, and second of all… he wasn’t going to point out how hot he was to Otabek. That would be counterproductive at best.

“Well,” Bella said, “Yuri’s the one who wanted to go all out.”

“Is that so?” Otabek asked.

“We went to that under-twenty-one club last weekend,” Yuri said. “I wore my only passable club outfit then, and I wasn’t going to wear the same outfit two weekends in a row. So Mila and I went to Hot Topic, and I saw this shirt.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” Otabek said, as if Yuri had dressed up for him. And, well, Yuri didn’t want to dispute that. Not with Bella right there.

“You were great tonight, by the way,” Bella said. Yuri nodded in agreement.

Otabek rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I try.”

“He manages DJing and going to an Ivy League school full time.”

“And a social life,” Otabek added.

“And he somehow still has time to go to shabbat services with my grandpa every Friday.”

“Hey, Kolya’s done a lot for me. If he invites me… I’m not going to say no.”

“Are you Jewish, too?” Bella asked.

Otabek shook his head. “Muslim, technically, although I’m not really religious.”

“Oh,” Isabella said. “I’m Catholic, technically, I guess.”

“My parents are a lot more religious than I am,” Otabek said. “But… I think that’s true of most people.”

* * *

The ride back to the suburbs in Otabek’s car was pretty quiet. Yuri had noticed, really, that Otabek was  _ really _ quiet around other people. He seemed to be okay around Isabella, though. The idea made Yuri a little uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to think of why.

Yuri sat in the passenger seat, and they stopped at Isabella’s house first. Otabek made sure that Bella got inside before driving on to Yuri’s apartment.

“Bella’s nice,” Otabek said.

“She is,” Yuri agreed.

“I’m really glad you came.”

Yuri hummed, trying to ignore his stupid heart condition making a comeback. “Well,” he said. “I’m glad you invited me. It was fun. You’re a good DJ.”

“Thanks.” After a few seconds: “You watch any more of Victor’s videos?”

“Haven’t had much time,” Yuri said. “And… really, I feel like I need some emotional preparation to watch that dumbass whine on about how amazing Paris is.”

“That’s fair,” Otabek said with a chuckle. “Some of them are… a lot.”

“...How’d you find them?”

“A friend of mine in my program told me about them. She does French. Since Victor talks a lot about literature, I thought I’d check it out. Imagine my surprise when I saw that this apparently amazing vlogger was none other than _Victor_ _Nikiforov_.”

Yuri snorted. “I can fucking imagine. Asshole begged me not to tell everyone.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you. He talks about you a lot.”

“Bad things?”

“No,” Otabek said. “But… maybe a little embarrassing?”

“Now you’ve got me curious, Altin.”

Otabek hummed. “He talks about how smart you are. Gushed about how concerned you were about him. What a grandpa’s boy you are. And while you say you’re not ashamed of it… I’m not sure you’d want your whole French class knowing that.”

“...Yeah, okay, maybe you have a point.”

“See?”

“Thanks for driving me home,” Yuri said. They were approaching his complex.

“It’s not a problem,” Otabek said. 

“Still. It was nice of you.”

“Yura,” Otabek said. “I told you before… anything you need from me… I’ll do it.”

Great, the stupid fucking warm floating feeling was back. And the heart condition. Yuri really needed to get a proper date alone with Kenjirou. He needed to do  _ something _ .

Otabek turned into the parking lot and found a spot.

“Thanks again,” Yuri said.

“Of course.”

“I guess I’ll probably see you again on Friday,” Yuri said.

“Probably, yeah. And I’ll text you.”

“Well, that goes without saying.” Yuri opened the door, feeling awkward. “If you want… I’m sure you could crash here.”

Otabek waved him off. “It’s fine. It’s not like I have classes in the morning.”

“Then I’ll see you Friday?”

“Yeah. Friday.”

Yuri got out of the car and went into his building. He walked up the two flights of stairs and down the hall to the apartment he shared with his grandfather, unlocked the apartment door, took off his Docs, locked the door behind him, and flopped down on his bed before he realised that he was still wearing Otabek’s jacket. Fuck.

* * *

The next morning, Yuri woke up at eleven-thirty, and stumbled into the kitchen for some coffee. His grandfather had the day off, and was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. “Otabek called. I invited him over for lunch.”

Wonderful. Well, Yuri could give him back his jacket. “Okay,” he said.

“Yurachka, you know… if there’s something you want to tell me…”

Wait… what? “About what?” Was his grandfather actually insinuating that he was…  _ dating Otabek _ , or something?

“A certain Mr. Altin.”

Yuri managed to keep his composure. “Ded, there’s nothing between me and Otabek. We’re just friends.”

“If you say so, Yurachka. But you know you don’t need to hide anything from me.”

“I know that, Ded,” Yuri said. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“As long as you know.”

Yuri brewed his coffee in silence. He poured it into a cat mug and went into the living room to watch Nickelodeon. An hour or so later, Otabek let himself into the apartment. Yuri, still wearing his pyjamas, nodded to Otabek. 

“‘Sup?”

Otabek smiled at him and took his shoes off. “Watching cartoons?”

“Obviously. It’s Sunday morning. What else is there to do?”

“Afternoon, but okay.” Otabek walked over to the couch and sat down next to Yuri. “Maybe I should’ve just crashed here last night.”

“Ded said  _ you _ called  _ him _ .”

“Yeah,” Otabek said. “Just to check in.”

Did Otabek know, Yuri wondered, that basically  _ everyone _ thought they should be together? Surely if they were talking to Yuri about it, they’d also mentioned it to Otabek? The thought made Yuri all the more uncomfortable.

So, trying to avoid uncomfortable feelings, Yuri went back to his room and grabbed his hair brush. When he came back, Otabek hadn’t changed the channel. Yuri flopped down on the couch next to him and started brushing his hair.

“You spend a lot of time grooming yourself, don’t you?”

Yuri stuck his tongue out at Otabek. “Not everyone can be as naturally adorable as you.” He delighted in the shade of pink Otabek turned at that. “You’re staying for spring break, right?”

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed. “You’ll only have to deal with me for a week this time.”

Yuri scoffed. “Like it was such a big deal last time. For fuck’s sake, Otabek, we  _ liked _ having you here. And you know… Ded’ll invite you over for Passover, too.”

“Well,” Otabek said, “I’d love to come.”

“Of course you would. We all know the only reason you’re here all the time is because Ded’s the best fucking cook in the greater Philly area.”

Otabek smiled. “You caught me.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Yuri said, setting his brush down. “I’d do the same.”


	12. French Horn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Yuri’s sixteenth birthday.

Two weeks later, Yuri wasn’t having much luck. If he were honest, he found Kenjirou pretty annoying, but he had yet to find another suitable substitute. He was just glad that Valentine’s Day had come and gone without incident. Yuri had sat on the sofa, watching movies with his grandfather and Pyotya, occasionally responding to texts from his friends in relationships (and, okay, fine, he texted Otabek, too).

Things really hadn’t changed all that much, but Yuri was anxious for them to. So, one day, he approached Kenjirou in chemistry. “You have plans this weekend?”

“Not yet,” Kenjirou said. “Oh, we should hang out! I have some really cool movies! Japanese movies!”

Yuri had to admit, Japanese horror movies were fucking amazing, so he nodded. “Great. Your place or mine?”

“Yours would probably be best,” Kenjirou said. “My dad will be hogging the TV at mine.”

“Sure,” Yuri said easily.

And like that, he had a date to watch Japanese horror movies with a boy (who, admittedly, was annoying as all hell, but Yuri was sure he’d get over that).

His grandfather would already be in bed by the time Kenjirou came over, so as long as they kept the volume down reasonably… well, it’d be fine.

Kenjirou didn’t have a car, yet, either, but as it turned out… he lived in the same complex as Yuri, albeit in a different building. So it was really easy to hang out.

He came over at eight with a backpack full of Japanese movies and delicious treyf snacks.

“They’re all subtitled,” Kenjirou said. “I have some better ones at home that don’t have subs, but… I figured you probably don’t speak Japanese.”

“I don’t,” Yuri said.

He let Kenjirou pick the first movie, and settled down into the couch. It took a while for the movie to pick up action, and Yuri was just about to ask how this was a fucking horror movie when he realised that it wasn’t a horror movie at all. It was some shitty action movie. What the fuck?

After the first movie ended, maybe Yuri should have said something, but instead he let Kenjirou put on the next movie.

“This is my boyfriend’s favorite.”

Wait, what. “Boyfriend?”

Kenjirou nodded and beamed. “Yuuto! He lives in Chicago, and we text a lot, but it’s hard, you know? You’re so lucky your boyfriend’s right in the city.”

“My… my what?”

“Oh, are you still in the closet? I’m sorry! I just assumed…!”

“I’m not in the  _ closet _ ,” Yuri spat. “But I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That Otabek guy isn’t your boyfriend? I just figured you two were trying to keep it quiet, and that you weren’t doing a very good job of it. Because he’s older, or you’re both guys, or whatever.”

“I am  _ not _ dating  _ Otabek _ ! Of all people, oh my god.” Yuri buried his face in his hands.

“Oh, sorry,” Kenjirou said. “I just assumed… and clearly I should stop assuming.”

“It’s whatever,” Yuri grumbled, stuffing his face with some more of the rice cakes Kenjirou had brought.

Kenjirou put the next movie in and sat down next to Yuri on the couch. He pulled out his phone and went through the pictures. “Here’s Yuuto.”

Okay, Yuri didn’t  _ think _ he was racist, but… Kenjirou’s boyfriend looked a lot like Katsuki, only younger. And it wasn’t like he thought Kenjirou looked anything like Katsuki, or anything like that. But holy shit, this kid looked like Katsuki.

“Uh, he looks nice,” Yuri said.

“He’s super nice!” Kenjirou exclaimed. “He’s actually from Japan, not like me, so we speak in Japanese together on the phone. We text in English.”

“That’s cool,” Yuri said.

Once Kenjirou was sufficiently distracted by the movie, he texted Mila.

> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> uh so kenjis boyfriend looks just like katsuki
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> omfg
> 
>  
> 
> From: Milushaaa <333
> 
> wait does this mean youve finally accepted that you need to just date otabek?
> 
>  
> 
> To: Milushaaa <333
> 
> what? no. fuck off.

He didn’t, of course, tell Mila that Kenjirou had thought he was dating Otabek, because there was no way in hell that would end well.

The second movie was much less terrible, Yuri had to admit, although it still wasn’t the Japanese horror movie he’d expected. And at least now he didn’t have to go through with his plan to date the most annoying human on the planet in order to regain some sense of normality.

* * *

By the time Yuri’s birthday came, he was sure that it’d be the best yet. All of his friends were coming over on the day itself, because it fell on a Sunday. Victor told him in private that part of his gift was not needing to do the weekend’s French homework (and Yuri wasn’t about to complain about that), and Ded made a cake. Neither Seung-Gil nor Georgi were invited (and Yuri’d hesitated on inviting Mickey, but in the end he’d decided  _ not _ to slight Sara’s brother and Emil’s boyfriend like that).

The one variable Yuri hadn’t really counted on was, of course, Otabek.

They’d continued texting regularly, but Yuri hadn’t told him about his birthday party. He wasn’t even entirely convinced that Otabek knew when his birthday was. Besides, it wasn’t like Otabek wanted to hang out in an apartment full of high school kids all day.

Yuri’s party started at one, and Mila came over at eleven to help set up (and meddle). She’d brought Isabella along with her, of course. Yuri wasn’t “allowed” to open their presents early, so he settled for listening to Mila ramble on (in his room; out of Nikolai’s earshot) about how she and Sara had  _ finally _ actually had sex, and how wonderful and amazing it was. Bella, of course, threw her expertise in as well, while Yuri sat there trying to be a supportive friend, but also… kind of grossed out at the amount of detail they were getting into.

And then, at noon, Yuri’s salvation from the most uncomfortable conversation of his life came from none other than Otabek Altin.

“Otabek!” Yuri exclaimed when the older boy peeked into his bedroom. 

“I thought I’d stop by.”

“Well,” Yuri said, “I’m having some friends over in an hour.”

“You’re welcome to stay, of course,” Mila said for him. “Yuri and I just thought you’d prefer to spend your Sunday in the city instead of in the suburbs in an apartment full of teenagers.”

“Yeah,” Yuri agreed. “Especially Mickey and Emil and Kenji. I mean, Emil’s fine on his own, I guess, but Mickey just bitches about everything, and he and Emil are  _ gross _ , and Kenji never fucking shuts up.”

“He has a crush on Katsuki, though,” Mila added. 

“Exactly,” Yuri said. “So he’s over here  _ all the time _ like I don’t know why.”

Otabek almost smiled at that. “Katsuki will be engaged to Victor by the end of the school year.”

“ _ Exactly _ ! And he has a boyfriend, like… I don’t get it.”

“Maybe he wants Katsuki to be his Philly boyfriend and Yuuto to be his Chicago boyfriend,” Isabella suggested.

Yuri snorted. “Can you imagine Kenji playing the field? He’d fuck it up in like, a week, by nature of never shutting the fuck up.”

He looked over at Otabek, who was hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

“You can come in, you know. There’s plenty of room.”

Otabek walked into the room and sat down on the bed on Bella’s other side. “Is Victor coming over?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “No way. He wants me and Ded to come over for dinner tonight. Surprised he didn’t invite you.”

“He did,” Otabek said. “But I didn’t know if he’d be here, too.”

“I mean,” Yuri said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he just  _ happened _ to be next door at Katsuki’s and stopped by just in time to steal a slice of my cake. But he’s not coming to the party.”

“Sounds like Victor,” Mila mumbled. “You know! We can always threaten him! Bella might not have anything on him, but the rest of us do!”

“Milusha,” Yuri whined. “It’s my  _ birthday _ . I feel like if I make Victor cry that’ll be bad luck, or something.”

“Fine, fine.” And then: “But what if  _ I _ make him cry?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Only if he actually comes over.”

“Victor’s not  _ terrible _ ,” Isabella said.

“No,” Yuri agreed. “But I don’t want him sucking Katsuki’s face in front of my friends. Besides, who has a fucking teacher at their birthday party?”

“That’s a good point, actually,” Isabella said. “Unless his birthday gift to you was A’s in French for all of us…”

“Already tried it,” Mila said. “He told Yuri he doesn’t give preferential treatment, which is bullshit.” She rolled her eyes and tossed her hair. “Anyway, it’s an even number here now, so… I’ve been thinking about changing my hair.”

“Changing it how?” Yuri asked.

“I want Hayley Williams hair.” She looked at Otabek. “That’s the singer from Paramore.”

“I know who Hayley Williams is,” Otabek said. “I’m a DJ, and I don’t live under a rock.”

“It’d look good on you,” Yuri admitted, “But with all those layers… and your hair’s naturally wavy… it’d be a lot more work.”

“Yeah,” Mila said. “I was thinking about that, because right now, if I let my hair go naturally it doesn’t look too shitty.”

“It’d look fucking fantastic, though,” Isabella said. 

Mila turned to look expectantly at Otabek.

“It’d look good,” Otabek said. “Although maybe not the orange.”

Isabella hummed. “Yeah, you know what? Keep the bright crayola red. But the cut would work.”

Otabek turned to Yuri then. “Yura, by the way… I have your present.”

“Oh,” Yuri said. “You didn’t have to get me a present.”

“ _ Bullshit _ ,” Mila singsonged. “Otabek, Yuri’s very grateful for his gift, and I applaud you for thinking of him. Even if you’re slowly eclipsing me as his best friend.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, Milusha.”

Otabek hesitated for half a second before handing a gift bag over to Yuri. Yuri tore into it and pulled out a shoebox. It was wrapped, so he tore away at the paper. “Holy fucking shit, Beka.” The box had the Doc Martens logo on it, and Yuri opened it all the more eagerly. He pulled out the most beautiful pair of shoes he’d ever seen: Doc 1460s in  _ leopard print _ . “Holy shit.”

“I take it you like them?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Yuri said. He was overwhelmed with the urge to hug Otabek, but he wasn’t about to do that in front of Mila. He’d never hear the end of it.

“Usually, I try to avoid animal products, but they only had those in leather.”

“I  _ love _ them,” Yuri said, clutching the boots to his chest. “I’d wear them now if it wouldn’t piss Ded off.”

“There’s, uh, something else in the bag, too,” Otabek said.

Yuri reluctantly put the boots aside and went back to the bag. He pulled out what was clearly a CD and unwrapped it. “It’s in… German?” German was a good guess, anyway, because he knew Otabek studied German as one of his languages.

“It’s a German punk band I think you’d like,” Otabek said. “Pronounced  _ die Toten Hosen _ .”

“Shit, that’s cool. Thanks!”

“Let me know what you think when you get a chance to listen to it.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Yuri said. “Thanks a lot, Beka.”

“No problem,” Otabek said.

Yuri was just waiting for Mila to tease him, but… hey, maybe she wouldn’t do it right in front of Otabek himself.

“Can you recommend any French rock bands?” Isabella asked Otabek.

Or, well, there was that.

“French?” Otabek repeated. “I’d have to ask a few friends, but I could probably come up with something.”

“Cool,” Bella said. “So you speak German?”

“And Russian, and a little bit of Kazakh. I took Spanish in high school, too.”

“Wow,” Isabella said. “That’s really impressive!”

“I mean,” said Otabek, “my family’s Kazakh. I don’t speak it fluently, but… I can get by.”

“Why’d you pick Russian?” Mila asked, needling.

Oh, holy fuck, was she turning her attentions to torturing Otabek now? 

Otabek shrugged. “If you remember, my grandmother did marry a man from the Soviet Union, and I did end up sending a few summers around here. I always liked how it sounds.”

“Ну,” said Mila, “русский язык хороший и красивый.”

“Конечно,” Otabek said, looking a little uncomfortable, as if he hadn’t realised that Mila spoke Russian. And maybe he hadn’t.

“А ты  _ любишь _ –”

“I think that’s enough Russian for now,” Yuri said quickly, cutting Mila off. “Don’t want Bella feeling left out.”

Isabella smiled. “Thanks, Yuri. I can speak a little French, but probably not as much as you guys.”

“More than me,” Otabek said. “I know what I’ve learned from Victor’s terrible vlogs.”

Mila’s eyebrows shot up. “Our Victor?”

Yuri snorted. “Apparently. I was surprised, too.”

“Wait,” Isabella said. “If he does vlogs… wouldn’t that be something to tell the class?”

Otabek had the decency to blush. “Some of them, uh, aren’t quite… PG-13.”

“It’s  _ Victor _ ,” Yuri said.

Mila pulled a face. “Ew, does he like go into his gory sex life?”

“You don’t want to know. Trust me.”

“But you watch them,” Bella said.

“The ones that are  _ purely _ about French language or literature. Not the ones about his personal life. But he can’t give that out to his students and expect them to stay with just the… appropriate ones.”

Yuri didn’t think that Victor would talk about his sex life in public, even just on a vlog. So, then, why was Otabek implying that he did? Unless… Otabek had said that Victor talked about Yuri on more than a few vlogs.

Oh.

Well, he’d have to thank Otabek from sparing Yuri Mila’s nosiness when they were at Victor’s for dinner later.

* * *

Otabek didn’t stay for the party, and Yuri couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, even though he was quickly distracted by all of his friends. And, well, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit distracted by his other presents. Mickey and Sara even got him a present each, which he hadn’t expected from Mickey. Maybe Emil had talked some sense into him.

Mila and Bella finally left around six; they were the last to go, and, really, Kolya had had to gently prod them out the door in order to make it to Victor’s on time. Yuri wasn’t sure why they were trying desperately to get to Victor’s on time, since the old man never did  _ anything  _ punctually (he said it wasn’t very Jewish or French of him, at which point Yuri had to remind Victor that he was only  _ one of those things _ ).

They arrived at Victor’s a little before seven, Yuri proudly wearing his new Docs. They were fucking badass, and he was excited to wear them  _ everywhere _ . They’d probably cut his 1914s some slack.

“Did Otabek get you those shoes?” his grandfather asked as they found a parking spot by Victor’s apartment.

Yuri nodded. “Yeah, they’re badass, aren’t they?”

“Language, Yurachka.”

Yuri huffed. “Doesn’t answer my question, Ded.”

“They’re very nice shoes,” Nikolai said, and, well, that was probably the best Yuri would get from him. “Otabek is a very thoughtful boy.”

“Yeah,” Yuri agreed. “He is.” He didn’t think much on it. Instead, he kept pace with his grandfather once they got out of the car, and buzzed into the apartment himself. He had a key, technically, but he thought with Victor it was usually best to give him some sort of warning. Especially since his gross boyfriend would be there. God only knew what Victor was doing.

It only took a record two seconds for Victor to answer the intercom. “Hello?”

“It’s us.”

“Yura! Ded! Come on up!”

The door buzzed, and Yuri opened it. He let his grandfather go in first, and followed him up the stairs. Victor swung the door open just as Kolya went to knock and wrapped his grandfather in a hug. “Dedulya! How are you?”

“I’m doing just as well as I was a week ago, Vitenka.”

Victor actually blushed at the intimate diminutive and turned to Yuri. “And if it isn’t the birthday boy! Finally sixteen, hmm?”

Yuri felt like there was something off in Victor’s tone, but surely he wouldn’t be so fucking obnoxious to imply what Yuri  _ thought _ he was implying right in front of their grandfather.

“Otabek just got here.” Okay, maybe he  _ was _ that obnoxious. “I like your shoes, Yura.”

Yuri met his cousin’s smile with a glare. Victor  _ definitely _ didn’t like his shoes. They were the polar opposite of everything Victor claimed was good and tasteful. This led Yuri to just one possible conclusion: the son of a bitch knew that Otabek had bought him the shoes.

Yuri stomped into the foyer, where, again, he took his shoes off. It was kind of pointless, but Yuri knew better by now than to argue. Besides, his Batman-print socks were still cool as fuck.

Otabek was sitting on the couch, pinned down by Makkachin. Well, Makka did that.

“I just need to start on dinner.”

“ _ Vitya _ ,” Yuri groaned.

“We got distracted talking,” Victor said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s galettes, and the batter’s already done.”

Yuri glanced over to Otabek. Galettes didn’t take long; they were like bliny (they  _ were _ bliny, actually, weren’t they? So why did Victor insist on pretending he was French by making them?) and it wasn’t like he hated spending time with Otabek, or anything.

“ _ My _ Yuuri is just freshening up. He’ll be out in a moment.”

Yuri hoped  _ desperately _ that Victor and Katsuki had not just been doing what he thought they’d been doing. He trudged over to sit down next to Otabek on the couch. Makkachin, delighted, by the new person, tried to lick him. Yuri pulled a face. “Stop.”

“Makka!” Victor called. “ _ Allons-y, ma princesse _ !”

Yuri rolled his eyes at his cousin’s antics, but the dog did leave them alone. After glancing to confirm that Victor was sufficiently distracted by the dog, and that his grandfather’s back was turned, Yuri hugged Otabek quickly.

“The shoes were were really cool,” Yuri said after he pulled away, not trusting himself to meet Otabek’s gaze. “I, uh, would’ve done that earlier, but… I didn’t want to… do anything in front of Mila or Bella.”

“Oh,” Otabek said. “W-well, uh, I’m glad you love them.”

“The only way they could be better is if they were in red and black, and 1914s.”

“That’s awfully specific.”

Yuri shrugged. “I have specific tastes. Didn’t get a chance to listen to the CD yet, though.”

“Let me know when you do.”

“Yeah, of course,” Yuri said. “Anyway, I also wanted to apologise for Mila…  _ being Mila _ . If Bella hadn’t been there…”

“It’s fine. She’s your best friend. Was she serious about me taking her place, though?”

Yuri snorted. “She’s just jealous. She’s been my best friend since we were six and seven. You saved my ass earlier, by the way.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Yuri nodded. “Mila and Bella started talking about sex in excruciating detail. I love Mila and I love Bella, but  _ definitely _ not in that way.”

“Understandable. Mila’s a bit… loud.”

“At least you didn’t have Kenji talk your fucking ear off about  _ Katsuki _ . Of all people.”

Otabek laughed. “I can’t say I’m sorry I missed that.”

“I mean who knows,” Yuri said. “You’re Asian and into music. Maybe he’d have gotten a crush on you instead.”

“Don’t even joke about that, Yura.”

And it was, of course, a joke, because Kenjirou was still convinced that Yuri was secretly dating Otabek. Not that he thought Kenjirou would  _ say as much _ to Otabek. But, well, by now, Otabek was used to everyone thinking they were dating, surely.

“You should meet some of my friends sometime,” Otabek said.

“Oh,” Yuri said. And then, after a second: “Yeah, sure.”

“Because contrary to popular belief, I  _ do _ have friends besides you.”

“That was  _ one time _ ,” Yuri said, swatting at him. “I was concerned, you asshole! You’re an awkward gay nerd and you were living in a new city!”

“Come by sometime. Just text me, and I can pick you up after school, or something.”

“Okay,” Yuri said. “Cool.”

“Because I  _ think _ my friends are starting to think I made you up.”

“Mm, just like Julia?”

Otabek turned an impressive shade of red. “Don’t tell them about that. Please.”

Yuri laughed. “Nah, I wouldn’t; don’t worry.”

Katsuki came out the bedroom at that point and smiled at Yuri. “Hey, Yura! Happy birthday!” 

Yuri didn’t, as a rule, like people he didn’t know well calling him  _ Yura _ , but it was better from his cousin’s boyfriend than  _ Plisetsky _ , and, well, Yuri knew firsthand how weird it was to refer to someone with your own (uncommon) name. And so: “Thanks, Katsuki.”

“How was your party? Phichit said he could hear the music.”

“There’s your answer,” Yuri said. 

“You’re friends with Emil Nekola and Kenjirou Minami, right?”

Yuri nodded. “I mean, we’re not close, but Emil’s dating the brother of the girl Mila’s dating, and Mila’s my best friend. But, yeah, Emil and Kenji are my friends in band.”

“Not for you, huh?” Katsuki asked.

“No,” Yuri said. “Never learned an instrument.”

“I was in band,” Otabek said, which made Yuri whirl around to face him.

“ _ What _ ?”

“Yeah. French horn.”

Yuri felt his eyebrow twitch. “French horn?”

Otabek nodded. “Yeah. First chair. I didn’t end up going to music school, but it was a consideration for a little while.”

“Okay, Beka,” Yuri said. “Very important question.”

“Mm?”

“Were you the kind of band geek like Emil who’s just… mildly annoying but mostly normal, or were you one of those band geeks who’s a total fucking nerd and has no social life?”

“I think you know me well enough by now to know the answer to that.”

“The second one,” Yuri said.

“It’s not that I didn’t have a  _ social life _ …”

Yuri clapped his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re going to school across the country. Katsuki and I are the only ones who know you used to be an antisocial band geek.”

“I wasn’t  _ antisocial _ . I had friends.”

“I think,” Katsuki said, “it could’ve been worse. You could have been in  _ choir _ .”

Otabek groaned. “I hate you both.”

* * *

Once dinner was ready, the five of them sat down at Victor’s table. Victor rambled on about all kinds of things, and only occasionally needled Yuri. Mostly, though, he talked about Katsuki, and Yuri had to admit, their grossness  _ was _ fully mutual. It was disgusting, but, somewhere deep, deep down, Yuri was glad to see his cousin happy. Especially since he was the one to get them together.

As Katsuki cleared the dishes, Victor darted into the bedroom and came back with a giant leopard print bag. Yuri dug into it and pulled out a box. “Is this one of those fucking gag gifts?” Yuri asked, looking levelly at Victor.

“Of course not,” Victor said, waving him off, at the same time Nikolai chastised Yuri for his language.

Yuri pulled the leopard print wrapping paper off to find that the box was for a Macbook.

“What the  _ fuck _ ?”

“Yura, it’s not like I don’t know what you’ve done for me and my Yuuri. Besides, you’ve been complaining about your computer for years.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Sorry to upstage you, Otabek,” Victor said before turning back to Yuri. “My Yuuri got you something, too.”

Katsuki passed Yuri a smaller box, wrapped in red paper, which, unwrapped, revealed an iPod classic.

“Holy shit?”

“Once an iPod’s been formatted for a PC, you can’t use it for a Mac, and we know how much you love your iPod nano… so…”

Not having to worry about being teased, Yuri walked over to his cousin and hugged him. “Thank you.”

Victor hugged him back. “Of course, Yura. And if you get into a good school, we’ll see about getting you a Macbook Pro as a graduation present, hmm?”

Holy fucking shit? 

Yuri let go of Victor, coming to his senses. He knew, really, that their grandfather would have words for Victor later about such an expensive gift. But Yuri didn’t care about that now.

“It’s white, so I’ll buy you a skin, too. I’ll send you the website I used, and you can just pick one out. I know white doesn’t fit with your aesthetic.”

It was only on the way home that Yuri realised that Victor had clearly earned at least two weeks of not being bitched about. Fuck. But it was so worth it.

* * *

The next day at lunch, he told his friends just what, exactly, Victor had gotten him for his birthday. He left out the fact that Katsuki had gotten him a new iPod to spare Kenjirou’s feelings (and also because it looked weird to have Katsuki give him an expensive gift for his birthday).

Everyone expressed their envy that Yuri had gotten such a great gift, and no one even noticed JJ Leroy coming over until he was standing next to the table.

“What do you want, Leroy?” Yuri asked.

“I heard you and Isabella talking in math about your birthday over the weekend, and just wanted to wish you a happy belated birthday,” JJ said.

Oh. “Uh, thanks, then, I guess?” Yuri said.

JJ seemed to take that as an acceptable response, because he turned to Isabella. “So, uh, Isabella.”

She didn’t even look up at him before responding. “Yes?”

“Uh, can I… talk to you alone for a second?”

“Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my friends,” Isabella said, still not even bothering to look JJ in the face. “What is it?”

Yuri suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

“Um,” JJ said. “Okay. Uh, here goes, then.” He took a deep breath.

“Any time, now. It’s not like I have better things to do.”

Yuri exchanged a look with Mila, who was also watching the unfolding scene. Now, as a rule, no one liked JJ Leroy, but Yuri had a feeling he was about to feel very bad for the dumbass.

“Okay, uh… I wanted to know if you wanted to maybe… hang out, sometime? Together? With me? Like a date?”

Isabella met his gaze then, and holy fucking shit Yuri Plisetsky had made a terrible mistake. “You honestly think that I’d go out with you?”

“Uh, well, I thought…”

“No,” Isabella said. “You thought wrong.”

“Oh. Uh. Okay then. Thanks for, uh, considering it, I guess.” JJ slunk away like a wounded animal.

“Honestly,” Isabella said, taking a sip of her milk. “Who does he think he is?”

Yuri saw JJ go into the bathroom. “I drank too much before lunch,” Yuri said. “I’ll be right back.”

He caught Mila’s eye on the way to the bathroom. Holy fucking shit. 

It wasn’t difficult to figure out which stall JJ was in.

Yuri kicked at the stall. “Oy, Leroy. Open up.”

“Why?”

“So I can apologise for what a bitch my friend was to you just now.”

There was a sniffle, but JJ opened the stall. Holy fuck, he looked terrible. And sure, he might be the most annoying human on the planet (although with Kenjirou, now, he might have some competition), but no one deserved that kind of stone-cold humiliation.

“I’ll talk to Bella,” Yuri said. “She definitely…  _ did _ like you at one point, and… even if she doesn’t anymore, there’s no reason to be such a bitch about it.”

“I don’t  _ care _ about cliques or any of that. I don’t.”

Yuri heaved a sigh. “Maybe act like it, then? Hang out with people who aren’t just jocks?”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“Hey,” Yuri said. “I’ll have you know that one of my best friends was a total fucking nerd in high school.”

“Your cousin doesn’t count.”

Yuri scoffed. “Vitya was never a  _ nerd _ . I meant  _ Otabek _ , who… right now, with the shit Bella just pulled, is pretty securely my second best friend.” He hesitantly patted JJ on the shoulder, afraid that JJ would take the action as permission to hug him and get snot all over his cool leopard print hoodie. “I’ll grab Leo and Guang-Hong, okay? And I’ll talk to Bella about this shit.”

“Okay. Thanks, Plisetsky. You’re not bad.”

“Well, this is the second time I’ve indirectly made you cry, so I figured I should do something about it this time.”

JJ hesitated at that. “Second time…?”

Shit, fuck, why had Yuri said  _ that _ ? He forced a chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Remember… about eight years ago… that note that told you to get out of the school?”

“That was  _ you _ ?”

“...I didn’t know how to react to someone being that  _ nice _ ,” Yuri said, and it was at least half the truth. “Anyway, I’m sorry for that, too, okay? And I’ll get your gay friends.”

“You shouldn’t use that as an insult.”

“I’m not?” Yuri said. “...Have you seriously not noticed how into each other they are?” He rolled his eyes and left the bathroom. He glanced over to his table. Mila shot him a look, but everyone else was distracted. Good. 

Yuri snuck over to JJ’s table, where Leo de la Iglesia and Guang-Hong Ji were whispering. Yuri flopped down into the seat which JJ had probably vacated. “So my friend Bella’s being a bitch for some reason, and JJ’s crying in the bathroom. I tried to talk to him, but I think he needs one or both of you.”

“Shit,” Leo said. “I  _ told _ him it was a bad idea. He said she’d been blowing him off.”

“Well, either way, your friend just got shot down and could probably use one of  _ his _ friends.” And, with that, Yuri went back toward the bathroom and then went back to his table. Just in case anyone was watching.


	13. Point of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri, Mila, and Isabella go to the mall. Yuri makes an important discovery.

Otabek came over for his spring break, as promised. Yuri had already cleaned his room a little more thoroughly, and packed his stuffed animals (with the exception of the tiger Otabek had gotten him at the zoo, because, well, he had his reasons) into a box, which he put into his closet. It was only a week, but, well… he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d put them all back. Having so many stuffed animals was a little childish, after all.

Otabek’s spring break didn’t coincide with Yuri’s, so it wasn’t as if Yuri had anticipated that they’d spend a lot more time than normal together. Except, well, they did. Otabek offered to drive him to and from school, claiming that he didn’t want to screw his sleeping schedule up too badly. And, well, Yuri was still a little pissed at Bella, who was getting rides with Mila regularly, so… it was only for a week. He wasn’t about to turn Otabek down.

And so, in the afternoons, they ended up spending a lot of time together. Otabek asked Yuri’s opinion on a lot of music things which Yuri was pretty sure he wasn’t remotely qualified to answer. But it was nice, really. 

On Tuesday, Mila and Bella insisted on coming by after school, so Yuri texted Otabek at lunch to let him know that he didn’t need to pick him up. Mila put on “Welcome to the Black Parade”, and they all sang along. It felt almost like old times, but Yuri wasn’t pushing his luck. He’d told Bella that she’d massively fucked up with JJ – of course, if she hadn’t wanted to date him, that was one thing (and perfectly understandable), but shutting him down publicly like that had been more than a little cruel.

Bella hadn’t seemed all too remorseful, and had claimed that she’d moved on, and someone like Jean-Jacques Leroy would only hold her back. Yuri didn’t particularly disagree about JJ’s uselessness, so he’d dropped it. But things were still a bit tense.

When they got into Yuri’s apartment, Otabek was sitting on the couch in a Smiths t-shirt and jeans, doing something on his computer.

“Hey,” Yuri said. “What’re you up to?”

“Mixing. I’ll have you listen to it later.”

Yuri had learned that this meant to leave Otabek alone, but Isabella, apparently had not. “I can listen to it.”

Yuri and Mila exchanged looks behind Bella’s back.

“Sure,” Otabek said. “I’ll play it for all of you later.”

“Let’s go to my room,” Yuri said, dragging Bella and Mila with him. “Otabek will be done before you two leave, I’m sure.”

Once they were in Yuri’s room, he shut the door behind them.

“Cohabitation suits you well,” Mila said. “I can’t tell what’s yours and what’s Otabek’s.”

Yuri rolled his eyes at her. “Easy. Mine’s cool. Otabek’s looks like it belongs to a giant fucking nerd. Because it does.”

“ _ I  _ think he’s cool,” Bella said. “I mean, he’s a DJ, and he’s in  _ college _ .”

“I guess,” Yuri said. “Until you get to know him. I’ve known him since he was in middle school, so this cool persona doesn’t fool me.”

Mila raised an eyebrow at this, but was blessedly silent. “Anyway. I’m going to prom.”

“With Sara?”

“...With Mickey, and Sara’s taking Emil.”

Yuri had anticipated as much. “As long as you don’t grind on Mickey.”

“Ugh,  _ gross _ ,” Mila said, pulling a face. “Sara’s parents didn’t have any problem with us having a post-prom slumber party though.”

“Right, because they think you’re just friends and have no idea you’re dating,” Yuri said. “That tends to happen.”

“And you would know?”

Yuri snorted. “No, I wouldn’t know, because my grandfather knows perfectly well that I’m bisexual, and if I spent all my time hanging all over someone… I think he’d have questions if we went to prom together as a group and then had a post-prom slumber party.”

“You sure you’re not just jealous at your lack of a prom date?”

“I’m  _ sure _ . I thought prom was a terrible tradition for people who peaked in high school?”

Mila shrugged. “Sara wanted to go, and I like getting dressed up.”

“Right,” Yuri said.

“I kinda wanted to go,” Isabella said.

“JJ’s a junior,” Yuri said with a shrug, flopping down onto his bed. “He could get you in if you want.”

Isabella rolled her eyes. “Are you never going to let that go?”

Yuri shrugged. “Just saying. If you wanted to go to prom…”

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Mila said. “I need  _ your _ help shopping.”

“Sure,” Yuri agreed. “When?”

“Saturday? King of Prussia?”

Yuri nodded in agreement. “Works for me.”

“Bella?”

“Sure. I need to go shopping, anyway.”

“Great! We’ll all go together!”

Yuri was sure that that would be fucking  _ fantastic _ . He didn’t know what was up with Bella, but he didn’t like it.

“Anyway, for something completely different,” Mila said. “Yuri, have you started driving yet?”

“A little. Ded’s usually too tired to take me out, but I’ve gone out with Victor a few times. Otabek took me out once, and maybe I didn’t tell him that he didn’t meet the requirements. Ded still signed off on it.”

“Wasn’t aware you were married to Otabek.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, we went all the way to… what, fuck, Massachussetts? to get married as quickly as possible so he could sign off on my driving card.” He flipped Mila off. “Ded signed off on it, so it’s fine.”

“Shit, my parents would have thrown a shit fit if I’d gone out with my permit with a fucking eighteen-year-old.”

“In his brand new Prius, no less,” Yuri said. “I was surprised he let me drive that.”

“Well,” Isabella said, “Otabek’s really nice. He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Yuri agreed. “Definitely.” There was something in Bella’s tone that made him a little uncomfortable, but he shrugged it off. “Anyway,” he said. “Milusha. You should get a black prom dress.”

* * *

After Mila and Bella left, Yuri started his homework. He was halfway through a set of chemistry problems when Otabek came back into the room. 

“Hey,” Yuri said. “Finish the mix?”

“Yeah. Wanna hear it?”

“Obviously.”

Otabek sat down on the bottom bunk next to him and opened his laptop. He handed his headphones to Yuri, who put them on. After a few seconds, he gave Yuri a thumbs up, which Yuri returned, and played the song.

Yuri didn’t really know anything about music, but he always liked Otabek’s mixes. This one was, of course, no exception, and he told Otabek as much when the song was over.

Otabek turned slightly pink. “Thanks.” He took his headphones back and shut his laptop. “So, uh, you wanna go out driving again? You need to log nighttime hours, right?”

“Right,” Yuri agreed.

“We can go tonight, if you want.”

“Awesome. Not that it really matters, because it’s not like I’ll have a car any time soon.”

“You never know,” Otabek said. “Depending on where you go to college, Victor just might buy you your own car.”

Yuri wouldn’t put it past him. Ded certainly couldn’t afford it, and that was something that Otabek knew as well as Yuri. But Victor… “Yeah, maybe.”

“And provided you’re a decent driver, you’d be welcome to borrow my car. You’re not on the insurance, so you’d need to  _ really _ avoid any accidents, but… in a pinch.”

Yuri smiled. “Thanks, Beka.”

“Of course,” Otabek said. “Like I said, Yura: anything you need.”

Between the words themselves and Otabek’s soft tone, Yuri felt himself blush, so he ducked his head. “You’re too fucking nice.”

“I don’t think so,” Otabek said. “I think I’m just nice enough.”

“That’s such a fucking Hufflepuff thing to say.”

“Good thing I’m a Hufflepuff, then,” Otabek said with a smile.

“Still the worst fucking House.” At Otabek’s pathetic kicked-puppy look, Yuri rolled his eyes. “It’s not like it’s  _ your fault _ . You’re, like, the one cool Hufflepuff.”

“You think I’m cool?”

“Don’t let your head get too big,” Yuri grumbled. “I meant, like, decent. You’re decent. You’re still a giant fucking nerd.”

Otabek laughed. “Well, that’s fair.”

* * *

Mila had agreed to pick Yuri up at one in the afternoon, so Yuri was, obviously, surprised when someone burst into his room at seven AM. He buried his head in his pillow, but Victor pulled his blankets off.

“Yura, get up!”

“It’s  _ Saturday _ , you fucking asshole,” Yuri grumbled. “What fucking time is it?”

“Seven,” Victor said cheerfully. “I need you to come with me.”

“For  _ what _ ?”

“Emotional support. I’m getting a tattoo.”

That, actually, got Yuri’s attention. “A tattoo?” he repeated.

Victor nodded, stupid heart-shaped smile on his face. “Mmhmm!” 

“Victor,” Otabek said from the top bunk, “have you actually thought on this, or is this just an impulse?”

“Oh, hi, Otabek!” Victor said. “I forgot you were staying here over your break!”

“Victor,” Yuri said.

“I’ve thought on it constantly since my birthday! Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Now, come on! Get dressed! I need to be there at eight-fifteen, and if we have time, we can stop at Wawa for coffee!”

Yuri grumbled, but knew Victor well enough to know that he wouldn’t fucking leave on his own. And, well, Yuri didn’t want Victor to ruin Otabek’s day, too. “Fine. Go wait out in the living room.”

“Wonderful!” Victor squealed and practically danced out of the room.

“Bet you twenty bucks he’s getting a tattoo of Katsuki’s name,” Otabek said from the top bunk.

“I’m sure that’s exactly what he’s doing,” Yuri said, “I’m not betting against that.”

He crawled out of his warm bed and went over to his closet. He pulled out a simple pair of black skinny jeans and a Say Anything t-shirt. “Already fucking going to King of Prussia with Mila and Bella later,” he grumbled.

“Yura.”

“Hm?” Yuri hummed as he changed his shirt.

“If Mila and Isabella get to be too much, especially after Victor, just text me and I’ll pick you up. I didn’t have any plans today, so it’s no trouble.”

Oh. “Thanks,” Yuri said. He hoped he wouldn’t need to, but… having the option was nice. He changed into the skinny jeans. “Here’s to hoping I don’t murder Victor.”

“I have faith in you.”

* * *

Victor, true to his word, did buy Yuri coffee (and Tastykakes, too), and then it was off to a tattoo parlour in the city.

Yuri would be lying through his teeth if he said that he never planned on getting a tattoo, so maybe this would be a good experience. The parlour was clean, and Yuri was allowed to go into the room with Victor.

“Why didn’t you bring Katsuki, anyway?” Yuri asked, trying his best to seem indifferent. “He seems like he’d be better at this emotional support bullshit.”

“It’s a surprise for him,” Victor said.

If this were Mila or Bella or any of the other dumbasses he associated with (Otabek, for his part, seemed to be a little bit more rational), Yuri would be collecting bets on how long it’d take for them to regret it. But with Victor and Katsuki… well, Yuri didn’t really  _ want _ Victor to regret it.

Didn’t mean Victor still wasn’t annoying as all shit. He didn’t cry during the tattoo, which was honestly surprising, and it was pretty fucking badass to see a tattoo artist at work. 

As Yuri and Otabek had predicted, Victor got Katsuki’s name tattooed on his chest – in Japanese. Yuri hoped his cousin had written it properly, because otherwise, that could be embarrassing.

After Victor was done, Yuri anticipated being taken back home… and he really had no idea why. It was like he didn’t know Victor at all. As they left the tattoo parlour, Victor gushed the whole time about how  _ amazing _ Katsuki was.

“Yura, he’s my  _ soulmate _ , and I can only hope that you find your soulmate, too! I can’t believe that I only met him three months ago!”

Had it really only been three months? It seemed like it’d been forever. Yuri hummed in agreement, at a loss for what else to do.

“I think we should go out for breakfast to celebrate!” Victor said. “After all, we’ve barely spent any time at all together since I met my Yuuri, and that’s not fair to you at all!”

And, well, Yuri really couldn’t argue. He knew it was pointless when Victor got like this. So he let Victor drag him out to a restaurant. “Mila’s picking me up at one to help her find a prom dress,” he said as they were seated by the hostess. “So as long as we’re back by then.”

“Of course,” Victor said. “I remember my prom.”

Yuri couldn’t remember that. “Did you go?”

“With a girl, yes.” At Yuri’s shocked look, he waved a hand absently. “Oh, not like that. We were friends. I didn’t have a boyfriend, and neither did she, so it worked out well. We had a lot of fun. I’m sure Mila will have a great time.”

“Bella’s upset she can’t go. She didn’t  _ say _ as much, but you can tell. So today should be fun.”

“Otabek already volunteer to rescue you if you need it?”

Victor was teasing him, Yuri knew, but Yuri still crossed his arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, Yurachka,” Victor sighed. “It very much is.”

Yuri rolled his eyes at his cousin’s antics. “ _ Anyway _ , JJ Leroy asked Bella out, and she shot him down in front of everyone.”

Victor grimaced. “That’s not good.”

“No,” Yuri agreed. “It’s not.”

“You know,” Victor said, “if you actually cultivated this compassion you keep repressing to try to seem cool… you could actually do some good in the world.”

Yuri flipped him off.

* * *

He got home at half past noon. Pyotya met him at the door, and he scooped her up into his arms and flopped down on the couch next to Otabek.

“I might not be an expert,” Otabek said, “but that tattoo must be huge.”

“He took me out for breakfast after,” Yuri said, burying his face in Pyotya’s soft fur as she purred. “Said he’d been neglecting me, or whatever. Just because he hasn’t constantly been in my face. Not like I see him every day at school, or anything.”

Otabek snorted. “Sounds like Victor.”

“He got Katsuki’s name tattooed on him in Japanese, so if he misspelled it, he should have another fun vlog about it.”

“For everyone’s sake, let’s hope he got it right.”

“Seriously.”

Ten minutes later, Mila came barging into the apartment. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Yuri, already dressed (although probably completely covered in cat fur), sitting on the couch. 

“Oh,” Mila said. “I expected you to still be in bed.”

“Victor hauled me into the city at seven in the fucking morning to be his emotional support while he got fucking Katsuki’s name tattooed on his chest.”

Mila pulled a face at that. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” she said, switching to cheerful. “We can just swing by and pick up Bella a few minutes early!”

“Yeah, sure,” Yuri said. “I should probably get the lint roller, though.” He handed Pyotya off to Otabek, who didn’t protest, and grabbed the lint roller by the door and did a few swipes over his pants and shirt. “Should be okay.”

“Yeah,” Mila agreed. “So let’s go. Hi Otabek, bye Otabek!” She grabbed Yuri by the hand and pulled him out the door.

* * *

The ride up to King of Prussia passed without incident. If Yuri were honest, he’d been hoping for a nap, but he’d promised to help Mila pick out a dress, and out of all of them, he clearly had the best taste. Mila insisted that she wanted a proper prom dress, because she was, after all, going to be going to Sara’s parents’ house, so they didn’t shop at Hot Topic. Instead, they went to every department store in the mall.

It was four in the afternoon when they left Bloomingdale’s for Macy’s, and Yuri was  _ miserable _ . How hard was it to find a dress? Mila’s parents gave her a decent budget for her dress, but Mila was being absolutely unreasonable.

The tipping point, though, was definitely when Bella dragged them into the lingerie section of Macy’s.

“I need to get something  _ sexy _ ,” she said. “I have a good feeling something good is about to happen.”

“Well,” Mila said, “I could definitely use some lingerie.”

“What do you think’s going to happen?” Yuri asked Bella against his better judgement.

Bella grinned. “Well, I’m not for sure yet,” she said. “But… well, I could really use your help, Yuri.”

_ His _ help? “My help with what?”

“Getting Otabek.”

_ Getting _ … Otabek what? “Get him what?”

Bella rolled her eyes. “You, know,  _ get _ him.” She picked up a lace thong. “I’ve been feeling really good about myself. I have great friends, my grades are pretty good, I’ve lost five pounds, I have my learner’s permit… I deserve a great guy. And, really, it’s all because of you. You were right about JJ – he’s not worth it, but I shouldn’t have shut him down in front of everyone. You’ve been such a great friend, Yuri.”

Yuri’s brain, meanwhile, had ceased to function properly. Isabella liked  _ Otabek _ ? That gay nerd? “Do you… think Otabek likes you like that?” He couldn’t, right? He was just nice. Because he was gay. He’d said he was gay. And Bella was  _ definitely _ a girl.

“Well, I don’t know for  _ sure _ , but he always goes out of his way to be nice to me, like when he saw me all by myself at that show and just talked to me. That was really nice. And I just have a really good feeling about this.”

Yuri felt like he was going to throw up. Why did he feel like he was going to throw up?

Isabella frowned. “You okay, Yuri?”

“I think I ate too much at the food court,” Yuri said, hoping that excuse worked.

“Can I get you something? We can go get water, or something; I’m sure Mila’s fine waiting for us.”

“It’s fine,” Yuri said, except it wasn’t fine at all. What the fuck was  _ happening _ . “Uh, Bella, you do realise that, like, even though he has this whole social justice thing now, Otabek’s just a giant fucking school nerd, right?”

“What, like I’m an idiot?” Isabella asked.

“That’s not what I meant,” Yuri said.

“Do you think I’m not  _ good _ enough for Otabek, or something?”

Well, he did, but he didn’t want to  _ say that _ . “I don’t think you two would mesh well, is all.”

“ _ You _ don’t think we mesh well?” Isabella rolled her eyes. “Why am I even listening to you on this? Have you ever even  _ been _ on a date? I mean, you’re just a virgin who can’t drive.”

“You can’t drive, either!” Yuri said. “You know what? Fuck this. Tell Mila I’ll find my own ride home. I have things to do.” He turned on his heel and stormed off, shouting “By the way, Otabek’s gay!” on the way out.

Once he was safely out of Macy’s, he pulled out his phone.

> To: Beka
> 
> your offer to give me a ride still stand?
> 
>  
> 
> From: Beka
> 
> Of course. I’ll be there in half an hour. Which entrance?
> 
>  
> 
> To: Beka
> 
> whichever. just let me know when you get here.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Beka
> 
> Got it. Leaving now.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Beka
> 
> thanks

Yuri went across the crosswalk to Hot Topic. He knew, really, he shouldn’t stay there, because that was the first place Mila would go looking for him. The speakers blared an old Panic! at the Disco track, and Yuri tried to sort out why he was feeling this way.

So Bella had shitty taste in guys. He’d known that pretty much as long as he’d known her, with her stupid crush on Jean-Jackass Leroy. Sure, Yuri had been wrong to push her toward Seung-Gil, but she hadn’t seemed too upset about that.

What did she see in Otabek, anyway? It wasn’t like he’d ever return her feelings; he was  _ gay _ . But why did she even like him in the first place? He was a giant fucking nerd. He’d played  _ french horn _ in high school band, for fuck’s sake! He watched  _ CNN _ for fun. He’d literally signed up to pay out the ass to read  _ books _ .

Okay, sure, Otabek was  _ really _ nice. And he wasn’t half bad-looking, if you disregarded his stupid wannabe Beatles haircut. Sure, he might not have the excellent taste that Yuri did, but… he wasn’t  _ totally _ hopeless…

But Otabek and  _ Bella _ ? No.

Yuri paid for his t-shirt with a gift card and moved on to a store no one would expect to find him in: Build-A-Bear Workshop.

Sure, it was dumb, and dorky, and childish, too. But no one would expect to find him there. He picked a cheap brown teddy bear out and went down the line.

Otabek would never be interested in Bella. He was  _ gay _ .

But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be interested in  _ anyone _ . Hadn’t he said in D.C. that he had a crush on someone? Maybe they were even dating. Of course, Yuri  _ thought _ he’d know that, but he hadn’t even met any of Otabek’s friends yet, so maybe he had a boyfriend, too.

The thought made Yuri’s stomach twist uncomfortably. Otabek with a boyfriend. Holding someone’s hand, going on dates… the thought made Yuri miserable. Otabek needed someone who  _ understood _ him. Someone who’d listen to his remixes even if he didn’t know anything about music. Someone to encourage him to let loose a little.

Someone, well, someone like Yuri.

He almost dropped the bear.

“Holy fucking shit,” he whispered.

He was in love with Otabek.

When had that happened?

The lady at the stuffing station asked him to come forward, and Yuri moved robotically. Holy shit, he was in love with Otabek.

He was absolutely fucking hopelessly, completely, head-over-heels in love with Otabek Altin. Past the point of no return. And, well, he’d absolutely fucking die if Otabek didn’t love him back.

Which meant, then, that Mila and Victor  _ were _ right, all along, and he’d never fucking hear the end of it. He finished making the bear, still in a daze, and remembered to make a birth certificate for it. 

In the checkout line, his phone buzzed.

> From: Beka
> 
> Parked by JC Penney. You want me to come in?

Holy fucking shit, that was right. Otabek was picking him up. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how was he supposed to act now?

Sure, technically, maybe his feelings hadn’t  _ actually _ changed since he’d sat next to Otabek on the couch just a couple of hours ago, but Yuri hadn’t  _ known _ that he was in love with Otabek before. 

He replied to Otabek’s text.

> To: Beka
> 
> great im almost done. ill meet you by the side entrance.

So he paid for his bear and walked out to the side entrance just in time to see Otabek walking up in a sweater that was just a little bit too tight for Yuri’s comfort at the moment.

“You okay, Yura?”

“‘M fine,” Yuri said, not meeting Otabek’s eyes, because holy shit, how could he? “Just got into a little fight with Bella and didn’t want to ride back with her.”

“Okay,” Otabek said. “Well, we can go, if you want?”

Yuri nodded. “Yeah.”

Otabek smiled at him and Yuri realised that his stupid fucking heart condition had never been a heart condition at all. Just how long had he been in love with Otabek? Because that stupid fucking heart thing had started in D.C., and that was two months ago…

They walked together to Otabek’s car, and Yuri felt selfishly glad that Otabek was moving back into the dorms the next day. He needed some time alone to process this.


	14. Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri meets Otabek’s college friends.

Yuri had somehow gotten roped into hanging out with Otabek and his friends two weeks after King of Prussia. Yuri had, honestly, tried to push it off as long as possible, but he’d run out of excuses. And, so, Saturday afternoon, he found himself sitting in Otabek’s single dorm room watching a couple of Otabek’s friends set up a board game.

“Are we doing teams?” one of the girls asked. Yuri thought her name was Jess.

“I don’t think we need to,” Otabek said. “We’d only need team if there were more than a handful of us.”

“You know,” Yuri said, trying to regain  _ some _ sense of normality, “when you asked me to hang out with your  _ college friends _ , I assumed we’d be doing something a little different.”

“You haven’t figured out that this one’s a total nerd yet, Yuri?” the other girl asked. Torie. 

“He has,” Otabek said. “He’s just teasing.”

Yuri shrugged. “Figured you’d try to impress me, or sell me on Penn, or something.”

“I thought we were past that point in our relationship,” Otabek said, leaning against some of the pillows on his bed.

The word  _ relationship _ made Yuri’s heart pound so hard that he was concerned for a second that everyone in the room would hear it. “You thought wrong, Altin.”

“You know,” Torie said, “we were beginning to think Beks had made you up, Yuri.”

“I wasn’t even aware he talked about me to other people,” Yuri said, trying to remain neutral. Otabek  _ talked _ about him? But then… they were friends. Friends talked about their friends to other people.

“Gushes, more like.”

“ _ Torie _ ,” Otabek said, or, well, more like whined.

Torie rolled her eyes. “What would  _ you _ call it, then?”

“Not gushing.” Otabek’s cheeks were pink, but, really, that didn’t mean that his friends were  _ right _ . 

“Fine, whatever. The game’s all set up. We still waiting on Ari?”

Yuri wasn’t sure who Ari was, and Otabek nodded. “He said he’s bringing pizza.”

Wait,  _ he _ ? 

Apparently noticing Yuri’s confusion, Torie smiled at him. “Ari lives across the hall. He’s from Israel.”

“Well… Ari isn’t exactly a common name in America, is it?”

“Right,” Torie said, “you’re Jewish, too. That’s cool; you’ll have something to talk about.”

Wait, how the  _ fuck _ did Otabek’s friends know that? He was pretty sure if he polled his friends who hadn’t officially met Otabek, they wouldn’t know he was a Muslim.

“Anyway,” Jess said. “We’re playing Risk. And I still think we should do teams.”

“We have five people,” Otabek said.

“We can invite Spencer, too,” Jess said. “He could partner with Ari. Might as well, you know, since they’re  _ dating _ .”

Yuri realised with a jolt that that statement  _ had _ to be for his benefit. Was he really that transparent?

“If we invite Spence to play Risk with us, he’ll spend the entire time making out with Ari,” Otabek said. “And I actually, you know, want to play the game.”

Jess heaved a sigh. “Fine.”

* * *

When Yuri met Ari, he was suddenly incredibly grateful to Jess for saying out loud that he had a boyfriend, because Ari was  _ really hot _ . He was tall – easily over six feet – and muscular, with light brown skin, curly dark hair, and bright brown eyes.

“So is it Yuri or  _ Uri _ ?” Ari asked after Otabek introduced them to each other.

“Uh, Yuri, technically, but also Uri. That’s my Hebrew name, anyway. My grandpa said that my mom named  _ Yuri _ because she liked the name  _ Uri _ .”

“I didn’t know that,” Otabek said.

Yuri shrugged. “I mean, I definitely like Uri better than  _ George _ . Anyway, either works, but I can’t say I speak much Hebrew anymore.”

“I like Uri. Your grandpa is the one we got that cooking book for, right?”

Yuri nodded. “He really liked it.”

“Can he actually read it?”

“Well, yeah,” Yuri said. “And even if he couldn’t, my cousin Victor and I both went to Hebrew school. We could work through it if he couldn’t.”

“You went to Hebrew school?” Otabek asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Yuri said. “I don’t talk about it a lot, but yeah.”

Ari clasped Otabek’s shoulder and leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Otabek turned bright red at  _ whatever _ it was, and Yuri wasn’t sure that he wanted to know.

“So,” Jess said. “Let’s eat some pizza and play Risk!”

* * *

By the time Jess and Torie left, it was already eleven at night. Yuri had, somehow, gotten out of having a curfew that night (probably because his grandfather trusted Otabek), so he wasn’t worried about getting home late.

Ari left not long after them, claiming that he had a date with his boyfriend.

Which meant, of course, that Yuri and Otabek were alone. This was fine. Yuri could do this. He was only in love with the guy. No big deal.

“You wanna spend the night?” Otabek asked.

Spend the night? Otabek had a  _ single _ ; there was only one bed. Did that mean… sleeping together in that tiny little extra-long twin bed?

As if Otabek was reading his mind, he said, “The chair in the corner folds out.”

Yuri looked to the chair in the corner. So it did. “Do a lot of people spend the night?”

Otabek shook his head. “You’d be the first. But I thought a chair would be a nice touch.”

“So you just bought a fold-out chair?”

“Torie’s from Jersey. Her best friend comes over a lot, and she borrows it.”

It still seemed like a weird explanation to Yuri. He checked his phone. Nothing from Ded, and only a couple of texts from Mila. He hadn’t spoken properly to Bella in two weeks.

“If you want to go home, that’s fine,” Otabek said. “It’s just a little bit of a hike to my car.”

“I can spend the night,” Yuri said. “I’ll just text Ded so he knows when he gets up that I’m not lying in a ditch somewhere.”

“Oh, okay. Uh, and we can go to the dining hall in the morning. I should have an extra travel toothbrush somewhere…”

Three weeks ago, this is where Yuri would have teased Otabek about having plans to get laid, but now… Yuri didn’t want to think about that.

“From our trip to D.C.,” Otabek said, apparently noticing Yuri’s discomfort. “I packed my toothbrush and forgot I’d had a brand new one in my travel bag.” He went over to the corner and unfolded the chair. “I’ll sleep in the chair. You can borrow a pair of pyjamas, too.”

Otabek’s pyjamas. That he wore. That probably smelled like him. “Uh, okay.”

Otabek went over to his wardrobe, grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and handed them to Yuri. “Here you go.”

This was fine. They’d shared a room before. They wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed. This would be just like old times.

Except Yuri was in love with him, and Otabek had a crush on someone else and a hot Israeli friend who lived just across the hall. Besides, he was in  _ college _ ; why would he waste time with a high schooler?

“Thanks,” Yuri managed.

“Are you okay, Yura?”

The diminutive shot through him like a bullet. “Just tired.”

Otabek didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press it. “Okay. Well, let me find that toothbrush.”

* * *

The next morning, Yuri woke up in Otabek’s bed, wearing Otabek’s clothes. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. Otabek was still asleep in the fold-out chair. Yuri turned his attention to his phone, trying to think about anything except for how the bed smelled like Otabek, and how Otabek’s eternal resting bitch face went away when he slept, and made him actually look really fucking adorable.

So he grabbed his phone from the bookcase next to the bed and checked it. He had a couple of texts from Mila, and one from his grandfather from five in the morning.

> From: Dedushka
> 
> K

One day, Yuri and Victor would succeed in teaching their grandfather how to use a phone. He knew, really, he should call his grandfather, so he stepped out into the hallway to avoid waking Otabek before hitting “call”.

“Yuri?”

“Hey, Ded. Just wanted to check in.”

“Did you have a nice time with Otabek last night?”

“Yeah,” Yuri said. “He’s still asleep right now, so I’ll be back later today.”

“No hurry,” his grandfather said. “Otabek’s a good boy, and I trust you both.”

“Thanks, Ded. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you, Yurachka.”

Yuri looked up and down the hall. There was no one to be seen. “I love you, too, Ded,” he said. “Bye.”

He disconnected the call and went back into Otabek’s room. The older boy was still asleep when Yuri got back in, so he figured that he might as well try to get some more sleep, too.

* * *

Two hours later, Yuri was wearing the same skinny jeans as he’d worn the night before, but one of Otabek’s t-shirts.

“There’s no point in wearing the exact same outfit you wore yesterday,” Otabek had said, handing him a Smiths t-shirt.

The shirt was a little bit big on him, but he’d realised that he was now the same height as Otabek in bare feet, which had been a little jarring. He could, theoretically, just  _ kiss _ him. He wouldn’t have to take their (apparently now former) height difference into account.

They went to the dining hall for brunch. Yuri had heard that dining hall food was inedible, but it actually was… well, it was nothing compared to what Ded could cook, but it was better than the food in his school cafeteria. Besides, they had Belgian waffles, so Yuri had three.

They hung out for a little while afterward, although this time, it was Otabek who did most of the talking. Yuri knew that he wasn’t acting normally, and any hopes that Otabek wouldn’t notice were out the window.

He needed to do something about it. Because Yuri knew that things couldn’t go on like this.

And so what if Otabek had a crush on someone else? Yuri would show him that he was so much better.


	15. Nice Jewish Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri’s grandfather hosts a Passover seder.

Passover started on Wednesday, April 8th, which was a little over a week after Yuri had spent the night at Otabek’s dorm. And Yuri had plans. Normally, he’d talk them over with Mila, but he didn’t want to endure Mila’s bragging about how she was right about everything.

Things between himself and Bella were still a little tense, but that was on the backburner for now. He’d get Otabek to realise how great he was and go out with him, and  _ then _ he worry about patching things up with Bella.

In homeroom, Victor had reminded Yuri that he and Katsuki (and Katsuki’s roommate, for some reason) would be coming by for Passover. Yuri hadn’t really needed the reminder, but he’d nodded anyway.

It wasn’t until math that things got weird.

Yuri sat in his regular seat, and when Jean-Jackass came in, he made a beeline for him. “Yuri!”

Yuri couldn’t even pretend to be interested in his textbook. Fuck. Hyperaware of Bella next to him, he met JJ’s eyes. “Yes?”

“Our lacrosse team made regionals!”

“That’s great?” Yuri said, still not sure why Jean-Jackass was bothering him. But, well, he didn’t want to make him cry a third time. That’d just be cruel.

“Yeah!” JJ said. “We worked really hard, and I’m really glad it paid off! And, uh, I probably couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“ _ My _ help?” What the hell had Yuri done? He avoided JJ if at all possible.

“Uh, yeah,” JJ said. “I always thought you didn’t like me, or something.”

Yuri  _ didn’t _ like him. So JJ had assumed correctly.

“Anyway,” JJ said, “It’d be great if you could come! I know you don’t care about school spirit, but I’d really appreciate it.”

He thrust a flier into Yuri’s hands. “I’ll… consider it,” Yuri said, taking the flier, mostly so JJ would shut up.

“Thanks!” He turned to Bella next, and Yuri turned away. If JJ was going to be dumb enough to ask Bella out again after she’d turned him down so harshly before, Yuri wasn’t going to have any part of it.

* * *

Victor insisted on giving Yuri a ride home from school. He, of course, had to sit in the back seat because Victor and Katsuki were inseparable, but he’d anticipated that.

“So what should I expect from Passover?” Katsuki asked.

“Well,” Victor said, “you should wear your best suit…”

“It’ll be an hour or two of the seder before we can eat, everything’s in Hebrew so you won’t understand anything, and you don’t need to wear a  _ suit _ – just don’t dress like a slob. Which doesn’t seem to be an issue with you,” Yuri said. “I always get a snack beforehand because otherwise I’m starving by the time we get to eat.”

“You should text Otabek and let him know about that,” Victor said.

Yuri grumbled but pulled out his phone.

> To: Beka
> 
> btw the seder will take probably two hours before we can eat so you should eat before you get here
> 
>  
> 
> From: Beka
> 
> Got it! Thanks for the heads up, Yura!
> 
>  
> 
> To: Beka
> 
> also if victor told you to wear a suit dont listen to him. something a little nicer than a tshirt and jeans is fine.
> 
>  
> 
> From: Beka
> 
> Good to know. See you tonight?
> 
>  
> 
> To: Beka
> 
> absolutely.

“Are you and Otabek officially dating yet?” Victor asked from the driver’s seat.

“Fuck off and mind your own business, Vitya.”

“I think that’s a no,” Katsuki said.

Yuri seethed in the back seat. Why did Victor seem to think that this was some cute little game?

* * *

Victor, predictably, went into Katsuki’s apartment with him, and Yuri couldn’t say he was too disappointed. He helped his grandfather prepare the food, and, shortly before everyone was due to come over, went into his room.

He wanted to find something that would catch Otabek’s attention without his intentions being too transparent to Victor (and Katsuki, and Ded, too). He usually wore a collared shirt to shul, so he grabbed the black one he’d worn for Halloween the previous year when he’d been Revenge-era Gerard Way.

He paired it with black skinny jeans and Slytherin socks. After a bit of consideration, he threw a Slytherin house cardigan on top. He looked himself over in his full-length mirror and deemed his outfit acceptable.

He went over his eyeliner one more time and went out to the kitchen to help his grandfather set the table. Once each place setting had a plate, utensils, glass, and haggadah, Yuri went into the living room to watch TV for a little while.

It was only halfway through a rerun of iCarly that Yuri realised that tonight was going to be embarrassing as hell. Otabek was older than him. Yuri had to ask the Four Questions. 

Fucking fantastic.

By sheer luck, Otabek came over before Victor and Katsuki. Because he was too fucking nice and polite, after saying hello to Yuri, he went into the kitchen, presumably to ask if he could help. Less than a minute later, he was sitting on the couch next to Yuri.

“Told you not to worry?” Yuri guessed.

“Of course. I don’t know why I expected anything different.” 

Pyotya climbed up onto Otabek’s lap, and Yuri laughed. “She’s trying to ensure you stay out of the way.”

Otabek smiled, and Yuri thought his heart was about to pound out of his chest.  “She’ll get fur all over my sweater… but maybe I should’ve known better than to wear navy.”

Yuri looked over Otabek’s outfit. He was wearing a collared shirt tucked under a navy cable-knit sweater, paired with khakis. Shit, that was super fucking nerdy and gay – why was it hot? “Navy might not have been the best idea,” Yuri agreed, “but I always wear black, anyway.”

“You can pull it off.”

Oh. Yuri felt his face heat up, so he turned to face the television. “Thanks.”

That was, of course, when the door flew open and Victor rushed in wearing the  _ gayest fucking sweater _ Yuri had ever seen. Katsuki was by his side in a suit. Behind them, Katsuki’s roommate stood wearing a collared shirt and vest with matching slacks.

“Oh, wow,” Victor said. “Otabek, you look very handsome!”

Yuri wanted to die. He knew Victor was doing this on purpose. “Go tell Ded you’re here,” Yuri told his cousin. “We got kicked out of the kitchen.”

“Mm, you’d think he’d let you help cook.”

“I  _ did _ help cook,” Yuri said. “And I set the table, thanks for your help.”

“I was busy,” Victor protested.

Oh, Yuri was sure he had been, but he didn’t think what Victor had been doing was an acceptable excuse. “The sooner you tell Ded you’re here, the sooner we can all eat.”

“When do we eat, anyway?” Katsuki’s roommate asked as Victor went into the next room.

“About two hours,” Yuri said. He delighted in the horrified face the man made. Great. Exactly what the interloper deserved.

“Ari and I went to the dining hall as soon as it opened,” Otabek said.

He wasn’t jealous, not of Ari. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself. Ari had a boyfriend, and his boyfriend definitely  _ wasn’t _ Otabek. And Otabek wasn’t the type of person to do anything with someone who was in a relationship. “Is he going to a seder?”

Otabek nodded. “Hillel is having them every night. He told me I should eat beforehand, too.”

“Glad there’s more than one of us making sure you don’t starve.”

Otabek smiled. “I think if I ever left here hungry, your grandfather would take it as a personal insult.”

* * *

After they’d gone through all of the necessary parts of the seder (including, yes, the Four Questions, which Yuri had asked, and which Victor, as always, had cooed over), they were allowed to eat, and Yuri dug into his meal with all the ferocity of a growing teenage boy (which, well, he was).

After Yuri put a second helping onto his plate, Victor turned to Katsuki. “So, my love, what do you think?”

Yuri nearly gagged at the sickening sweetness. He might have been in love, but if he ever acted like that, he wanted Mila to shoot him.

“I’m having a great time,” Katsuki said. “I really love all of the symbolism and tradition.”

“I do, too,” Victor said. “I’d want to raise our children Jewish, of course.”

Yuri nearly spit out his grape juice. “ _ What _ .”

“Oh, Yura, you’re so  _ young _ . I’m twenty-eight.”

From Katsuki’s expression, Yuri realised that Victor must have gone on about this before.

“Well,” Katsuki said, “I’m not really religious. But… I could see myself converting to Judaism for you.”

Victor cooed and the whole thing was disgusting, so Yuri said, “You realise that’d mean you’d have to get circumcised, right?”

“...What would happen, theoretically, if he were already circumcised?” Otabek asked.

“Uh,” Yuri said. “I don’t know.”

“Why do you ask, Otabek?” Katsuki asked in such a tone that Yuri couldn’t help but feel he was up to something.

“Otabek,” Victor said. “Do you have your eyes on a nice Jewish boy? Because if you did… well, to convert, you’d have to get a ritual incision,  _ but _ my Yuuri  _ would _ have to get circumcised.”

Yuri pulled a face. That was  _ way _ more information about Katsuki’s dick than he’d ever wanted. Next to him, Otabek was redder than Yuri had ever seen him. Well, no fucking wonder. No one but Victor needed to know  _ anything _ about Katsuki’s dick.

“Which is why I wouldn’t mind if he didn’t, as long as our children are raised Jewish.” Victor clasped Katsuki’s hand for emphasis.

“But I’d do it,” Katsuki said. “Like I said, I’m not religious, and this is nice.”

Yuri shot Otabek an incredulous look, but Otabek only shrugged and sipped at his grape juice.

Victor, though, cooed and threw his arms around Katsuki. “Oh,  _ Yuuuri _ !”

“I’m  _ trying _ to eat, here,” Yuri grumbled, breaking off another piece of matzoh and eating it. “Katsuki, you should try keeping kosher for Passover.”

“Uh, okay?” Katsuki said. “What does that entail?”

“Yura, neither of us keep kosher for Passover,” Victor said.

“You should try, too. I’ll do it if you’ll do it.”

After a few seconds, Victor shrugged. “Sure. We’ll all do it. But… Yuuri should be able to keep whatever customs he chooses.”

“You’re not letting him keep the  _ sefardi _ version of kosher for Passover just so he can eat rice. That’s cheating. We’re ashkenazi. If he marries you, then he’s marrying into ashkenazi customs.”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki said. “I can try it. So no rice, apparently.”

“Nothing leavened,” Yuri said. “No beer, and honestly… everything should be marked acceptable for Passover if it’s not a raw ingredient.”

“That doesn’t seem  _ too _ hard.”

Yuri laughed, and Victor looked slightly concerned. “There’s a reason Yura and I don’t usually do it. But if I can help my baby cousin and my wonderful boyfriend embrace our cultural heritage…”

“Will that be okay in Spain?”

“In  _ Spain _ ?” Yuri repeated.

“Oh!” Victor said. “My Yuuri and I are going to Spain for spring break! That’s true… well, we’ll try it, and if we can’t… we’ll let Yura know he’s won.”

“Isn’t a lot of Spanish food pork and shellfish?” Otabek asked.

“We’ll  _ try _ ,” Victor said.

Well, at least Yuri wouldn’t have to deal with Victor at all next week.

* * *

Saturday afternoon, Mila picked Yuri up and they went to the stupid fucking lacrosse competition. Yuri, determined to win against Victor and Katsuki, had packed himself some matzoh to snack on. He had to admit (to Mila, and not to Victor) that keeping kosher for Passover was harder than he thought, but he didn’t anticipate having to last much longer – Victor and Katsuki were in PHL waiting for their flight to Barcelona as Yuri and Mila arrived at the competition.

Of course, he had to run into Isabella as he waited for Mila to order her delicious hot dog at the concessions stand. He wanted to turn away, but he knew, really, that he shouldn’t. Isabella was supposed to be his friend, and he wasn’t going to fuck that up over a boy. Even if that boy was Otabek Altin. Especially since that boy was Otabek Altin.

“Bella!” he called.

She turned around. “Oh, Yuri.”

“I, uh, wanted to apologise… for freaking out that day in King of Prussia.”

“You’re forgiven,” Isabella said. “I shouldn’t have rambled on like that… and I can’t believe I had no idea he was  _ gay _ …”

“Can we, y’know, be friends again?”

“We never  _ weren’t _ ,” Isabella said. “Mila said I should give you some time to cool off, but you still seem… upset?”

“It’s something totally different,” Yuri said, which wasn’t a total lie. “With Victor, and everything, and I stupidly said I’d try to keep kosher for Passover, and all I’ve eaten is meat and matzoh and vegetables since sundown Wednesday.”

“Oof,” Isabella said. “That’s rough. But I’m sure you can beat him. You’re really determined and… I guess intense is a good word.”

“Intense?” Yuri repeated.

Isabella hummed and nodded. “Yeah. You’re really intense. It can kind of be intimidating, honestly, but… it also makes you one of the best friends someone can have.”

Intense. He was  _ intense _ . Did that mean…? Yuri shook his head. No. It couldn’t.

Mila appeared, hot dog in hand. “Please tell me you two assholes have made up.”

“Yeah,” Isabella said. “Now let’s go get good seats!”

* * *

Yuri didn’t know anything about lacrosse, but it was impossible to miss the way Isabella looked at JJ as he did… well, something that Yuri assumed was supposed to be impressive, because everyone around them cheered. 

Their school won, which Bella explained quickly meant they were going to states. “I wanna hang back a little, is that cool?” she asked as the bleachers emptied.

Yuri and Mila exchanged a look. “Sure.”

So they hung around until the bleachers were mostly empty, and followed Isabella to, presumably, congratulate the team. She caught JJ, followed by Ji and de la Iglesia. “JJ!” she called.

Mila looked at Yuri, one eyebrow raised. Yuri shrugged.

JJ actually lit up when he saw Isabella. “Isabella! Hey! I’m glad you came!”

Isabella smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it. You were  _ great _ !”

Well, Yuri thought, there was no worrying about Bella being bitter if he ever did manage to win Otabek over, because no one smiled like  _ that _ at someone if they were just being nice.

JJ grinned like a fucking idiot at the compliment. “Thanks! Hey, uh, I need to hit the showers, but… if you hang around, I’ll be back out in like twenty minutes and you can come with us! We’re going out for pizza to celebrate!”

Bella looked back to Yuri and Mila.

“I’ve gotta head home,” Yuri said, “and I can’t have pizza right now, anyway, but… you should go have fun and eat something better than this fucking cracker bread.”

“You sure?” Bella asked. “I don’t have to…”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Go ahead. I’m sure JJ could even give you a ride.”

JJ blushed, but smiled. “I’d love to!”

“Then it’s settled,” Yuri said, looking to Bella.

She smiled. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

JJ grinned. Leo elbowed him. “Oh! Right,” JJ said. He turned to Isabella.  “I’ll be back in twenty minutes, I swear.”

“I’ll be here.”

After JJ left, Bella turned to Yuri and Mila. “Do you think I’m a total fucking moron?”

“That depends,” Yuri said. Mila swatted at him. “Are you going to actually admit you like him this time?”

Bella blushed. “I thought you said no reasonable person dates a jock.”

“Well,” Yuri said. “I’ve… changed my mind. As long as we don’t  _ all _ date jocks. And it’s just JJ, because at least he’s… ugh, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but JJ  _ is _ actually… pretty  _ nice _ . And I don’t want him at the lunch table every day. At least alternate.”

“You seriously don’t mind?”

Yuri shrugged. “Could be worse. Besides, we’re friends, right? Friends support each other.”

“Right,” Bella said.

“But I swear to fucking god, Bella, if you have to turn him down again or break up with him, do it in private.”

Mila patted his shoulder. “Yuri’s just angry because he’s been subsisting on matzoh and chicken.”

“Ded made a roast last night,” Yuri said. “That was okay.”

“I wouldn’t do that again,” Isabella swore. “I was just… I really liked him. And I was afraid to admit it, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I’m sure Yuri can understand that…”

“Shut the fuck up, hag,” Yuri growled.

Mila sighed. “Still in denial.”

But he wasn’t in denial. He knew, now, that he was in love with Otabek. Didn’t mean if Otabek asked him out, he’d publicly humiliate him (unless grabbing his stupid face and kissing him senseless counted as public humiliation, of course, because if Otabek asked him out, that was definitely Yuri’s plan of action). Hell, if Otabek had asked him out in  _ December _ , Yuri still wouldn’t have publicly humiliated him.

“Look,” Yuri said. “As long as you know it was shitty.”

“I do,” Isabella said. “And I really like him.”

“Then go make out with jock boy,” Yuri said.

Isabella grinned. “I’ll be sure not to give you the gory details of our sex life, Yuri.”

“I appreciate it.”

Pretty much exactly twenty minutes after JJ went into the locker room, he came out, freshly showered and changed, and grinned when he saw Isabella still standing there. “Hey!”

Yuri looked from Bella to JJ, and turned to JJ. “If you hurt her, I’ll destroy you.”

“Have fun!” Mila said, dragging Yuri away.

* * *

Monday morning, Yuri awoke to four missed calls and a text from Victor of two hands with gold bands.

> From: Vitya
> 
> HE PROPOSED!!!!!! I SAID YES!!!!!!
> 
> From: Vitya
> 
> By the way Yura you won. We had to have a celebratory dinner. Shrimp. Totally worth it.

Yuri wasn’t surprised that they were engaged after such a short time, but he  _ was _ surprised that Katsuki had been the one to pop the question. Also, Yuri was looking forward to some butterscotch krimpets now that he’d officially beaten Victor.

> To: Vitya
> 
> Congrats! Cant say im all that surprised though.

And then, because clearly Yuri had a death wish, he texted Otabek.

> To: Beka
> 
> Victor and katsuki are engaged
> 
>  
> 
> From: Beka
> 
> After not even a full day in Barcelona. Can’t say I’m surprised.
> 
>  
> 
> To: Beka
> 
> Im sure well all get the full story when he comes back.

Now Yuri just had to think of what to do with his own love life. It’d been a month since he’d realised he was in love with Otabek, and he’d barely done anything. He needed a plan.


	16. About Damn Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri manages to spend some time alone with Otabek.

Yuri had eventually decided that the best course of action was the direct course: he’d get Otabek alone, somehow (which he didn’t think would be difficult), and he’d tell him. If he got rejected (which was likely), he’d do his best to deal with it gracefully and try to maintain a friendly relationship with him.

The problem was, though, between his finals and Otabek’s finals, it was suddenly impossible to get the other boy alone.

Sure, Victor had invited Otabek over for his celebratory dinner after spring break, but they’d been around Victor, Katsuki, Katsuki’s (former?) roommate, Giacometti, and Ded. That would have been the worst possible place to tell him.

And since then, Otabek had final exams and papers, and as soon as _he_ was free, Yuri got slammed with his own finals. They texted, but Yuri wasn’t about to tell him over text.

There had been the day Otabek had invited him over to see his new apartment – still in University City, but year-round – but Ari, Jess, Torie, and Spencer had been there, too, and he didn’t want to do anything in front of Otabek’s friends, either.

It took until two months after JJ’s lacrosse competition for Yuri to get Otabek alone.

It was technically Yuri’s first day of summer break. He’d slept in until noon and watched Nickelodeon in his pyjamas, with Pyotya curled up in his lap. At two, he got a text from Otabek which made his heart beat out of his chest.

 

> From: Beka
> 
> Hey! Wanna go for a drive?
> 
>  
> 
> To: Beka
> 
> absolutely!
> 
>  
> 
> From: Beka
> 
> Great! I’ll be by in 30
> 
>  
> 
> To: Beka
> 
> ill be here

Holy fucking shit, this was happening. Yuri gently pried Pyotya off of his lap and hurried to his room to try to find the cutest thing he owned. Or did he want the most responsible-looking thing he owned?

He didn’t pay attention to the clock and was still in his pyjamas, digging through his clothes when Otabek knocked on the frame of Yuri’s bedroom door. Yuri froze.

“Uh, sorry,” Yuri said. “I… apparently need to do laundry.”

“That’s fine,” Otabek said. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

Yuri nodded, and Otabek shut the door behind him. _Shit_. Yuri dug out a pair of black skinny jeans and an old Paramore shirt. That had to be good enough. He tried to kick the rest of his clothes back into his closet (somewhat successfully), and went out to the living room. “Ready,” he said.

Otabek smiled at him, and Yuri managed to smile back without feeling too much like he was dying. “Great.”

Yuri decided to just go with his shitty slip-on Vans, and two minutes later, they were in Otabek’s car, Yuri in the driver’s seat.

“You know,” Otabek said, “pretty soon, we’ll have to start adjusting the seat when you drive.”

Yuri blinked. “Am I taller than you now?”

“I think so.”

“Oh,” Yuri said, feeling the blood rush to his face for no real fucking reason.

“It’s really nice to see you again,” Otabek said. “I’m sorry the past couple of months have been so hectic, but I have no plans for the summer, so I should be free whenever you want to hang out.”

Yuri felt his heart pound in his chest. “Great,” he said.

“So, um, where do you want to go? Or do you want to just drive around for a little while?”

“I can just drive,” Yuri said.

“All right,” Otabek said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

* * *

They got back to Yuri’s apartment an hour or so later, and Yuri had decided to tell him. Otabek, being Otabek, hung around without even needing to be asked. They went into Yuri’s room and sat down on the bed next to each other. Otabek pulled up some music he wanted Yuri to listen to, and Yuri pulled up some Fall Out Boy music videos.

He kept trying to find a good time to tell Otabek how he felt, except every time he tried, his mouth felt strangely dry. He tried a different course of action: a totally neutral subject.

“Maybe I should cut my hair,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I mean. The hair over the eye thing looks cool, but… I keep having to pin it back if I want to do anything.”

Otabek hummed from his spot next to him. “Can I?”

Yuri felt his heart pound in his chest – but it was _Otabek_. “Sure.” He turned to face Otabek, who gently pushed Yuri’s hair swoop back.

People had played with his hair before, of course. Mila played with his hair all the time. But this was different, and Yuri would be lying through his teeth if he said he didn’t know why. Otabek’s hands were still in his hair. Yuri noticed how close they were to each other.

Before Yuri really knew what he was doing, he’d leaned in and kissed Otabek. Otabek’s lips were so much softer than he’d anticipated, and Yuri was just about to pull away because holy shit what the fuck was he doing when Otabek kissed him back. It was wet and sloppy, but holy shit they were _kissing_. Yuri kept kissing him, and Otabek pulled him on top of him.

Eventually, Yuri had to pull away for air. He didn’t look Otabek in the eye, and kind of wanted to run away. What the fuck had he been _thinking_? A confession gave Otabek room to say no and leave before it got to the point of physical affection. Now he’d never talk to him again.

“Yuri,” Otabek said after a few moments, in that gentle, soothing tone he sometimes used. “We should… talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Yuri asked. There was _plenty_ to talk about, starting with how fucking stupid he was, but he didn’t want to start.

Otabek took a deep breath, and Yuri braced himself for any number of rejections. He was too young, too loud, too angry, too feminine, too immature… “I’m in love with you.”

“ _What_?” Yuri met his eyes then, and there was no trace of anything that could indicate that he was joking.

“I-I tried not to be, at first. You’re two and a half years younger than me, a-and you lived all the way _here…_ ”

“University City’s not that far,” Yuri said.

“But Pasadena is.”

Oh. _Oh_ . Otabek had been in love with him since before he’d even _come_ to Penn?

“It’s not like… I didn’t go to Penn because you were here. I mean, you and Kolya and Victor being here was nice, but… I just wanted to be far from my family.”

“How long?” Yuri asked.

“I’m… I’m not sure,” Otabek said. “I… first got a crush on you maybe… six years ago? When I… came over for my school’s winter break. But I really don’t know when that turned to _love_ …”

“Oh,” Yuri said.

“I completely understand if this makes you uncomfortable! If you never want to talk to me again, I understand.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “ _I_ kissed _you_ , Beka.”

“I know that,” Otabek said. “But that doesn’t mean….”

Yuri kissed him again, hoping that would get the point across. Otabek kissed him back for all of five seconds before pulling away. “Yuri…”

“What?” Yuri asked.

“I’m _in love with you_ ,” Otabek said.

“So we’ve established.” Yuri sighed, realising that he really wasn’t getting his point across well.

“And if… if we do _anything_ , I want to be on the same page.”

Yuri knew this was, really, where he should use his words and say ‘Hey, you know, I’m in love with you, too, so much so, in fact, that I almost destroyed a perfectly good friendship over it’. Instead, what came out was, “Bella had a crush on you.”

Otabek looked hurt for half a second before he schooled his expression, and Yuri started desperately backtracking. “And I got jealous!”

“You got… _jealous_ ?” Otabek repeated. “Of me, or of her? Because you’ve known for _months_ that I’m gay…”

“I didn’t want her to like you,” Yuri tried. “Because… I didn’t want _anyone_ to like you.” He looked over at Otabek, who didn’t reply, so he continued. “And… I guess I’m stupid enough that it took one of my best friends getting a crush on you to realise that I… ugh, are you going to make me fucking say it, you asshole?”

Otabek kissed him. He caressed Yuri’s cheek, and Yuri kissed him back as best as he could. He pressed himself as close to Otabek as possible. This was fucking _euphoric_ . He understood now why Mila was constantly sucking face with Sara. And, fuck, if everyone always talked about how much better sex was, he couldn’t even fucking _imagine_.

When they pulled away for air this time, Otabek trailed kisses down his neck. Oh, holy _shit_ . He buried his fingers in Otabek’s hair. And then Otabek started _sucking_ , holy fucking shit.

This was, of course, the moment his grandfather decided to open the door to let Pyotya in the room. “Yurachka, what do you want for –”

Yuri and Otabek both froze.

“You two are busy,” his grandfather said. “I’ll check back later.” And then he picked the fucking cat up, left the room, and shut the door.

Otabek pulled away. “He probably thinks…”

“That we’re making out because we like each other? He hasn’t exactly been subtle all year.” Yuri pushed his hair back again from where it had fallen out of place. “Look, if Victor _and_ Mila harped on to me about how you _liked_ me… it’s not like Ded didn’t know.”

Otabek sighed. Yuri kissed him. “I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Yuri said.

“You’re a _minor_.”

“Not in the state of Pennsylvania,” Yuri said. “Sixteen’s the age of consent, and I’m sixteen.” He heaved a sigh when Otabek’s expression didn’t change. “We have, like, the same age difference as Emil and Mickey, basically, and no one says anything about them. Victor’s fucking _engaged_ to a man four years younger than him! Look, Beka, as long as you treat me decently, Ded won’t care.” Yuri kissed him again. “I _want_ this, Otabek. Boyfriends, or whatever?”

“Boyfriends,” Otabek repeated. “You… really want to be my boyfriend?”

“Obviously,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes.

Otabek kissed him then, and Yuri lost track of the time as they made out. They were only pulled back to the real world when Yuri’s grandfather knocked very loudly on the door. “If neither of you answer, it’ll be pasta.”

“Pasta’s fine, Ded!” Yuri called back. He looked to Otabek, who looked as disheveled and red-faced as Yuri felt.

“Okay! Dinner should be ready in twenty minutes!”

“I told you, Ded’s cool,” Yuri whispered. “Now, _Victor_ will be frustratingly embarrassing, but I don’t think we can avoid him, either. Even if I don’t take French next year.” He played with Otabek’s hair and hummed. “The _real_ problem will be Pyotya.”

“Pyotya? Really?”

“Oh, she gets very jealous if someone else is taking up my attention.”

“I’ll be sure to give her extra attention, then,” Otabek said. He kissed him again.

They were still making out when Nikolai knocked on the door again. “Dinner’s almost ready!” he called.

Otabek pulled away. “We _should_ probably eat.”

Yuri considered this. Eating meant, obviously, that he wouldn’t be hungry, but it _also_ meant that he had to stop making out with Otabek long enough to stuff food into his face. He wasn’t sure that that was a fair trade, not when making out with Otabek was so fucking _amazing_. His stomach growled. “...Fine. But we get to make out later.”

“It’s summer break,” Otabek teased. “Neither of us have anything to do in the morning. We could make out all night if you wanted.”

“Is that a promise, Altin?”

“You bet it is, Plisetsky.”

And so they got up, made sure they looked (mostly) presentable, and went out to the kitchen. Nikolai was plating pasta. Yuri got soda out from the fridge and sat down across from Otabek.

“You two are lucky Victor didn’t stop by tonight,” Nikolai said.

“Ded, don’t tell him” Yuri pleaded.

Nikolai placed a bowl of pasta in front of Yuri, and another in front of Otabek, who was blushing. “Why would I do that?” Nikolai asked. “It’s your business.”

“You don’t… mind?” Otabek asked.

“Why in the world would I mind? You have a good head on your shoulders, Otabek, and you two are both crazy about each other. As long as you two are being safe, respect each other, and communicate, I can’t complain.”

“But I’m eighteen.”

“And Yurachka’s sixteen. I was four years older than his grandmother, and we married when she was nineteen.”

“I told you he’d be fine,” Yuri said. “And so will Victor, really. He’ll just be annoying as all shit and he’ll probably cry. Maybe he’ll reach that weird pitch that makes his dog whine, but he’ll be fine with it.” He took a sip of his soda, thinking. “Mila will yell, though, but she won’t be upset.”

Nikolai sat down at the table. “Otabek, no one will be upset about this, except maybe Yurachka’s Canadian friend… Isabella?”

“She’s moved on,” Yuri said. “Not like she ever stood a chance anyway.”

“Yurachka,” his grandfather chastised.

“Ded, everyone in this room knows by know that Otabek is _gay_ , not bi. Which is fine, but it means Bella, as a girl, never stood a chance. She’s dating that shithead JJ Leroy, now, anyway.”

“ _Language_.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and stabbed at a noodle with his fork. “He’s, like, the most annoying human being in existence. I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to understand it,” his grandfather said. “But she’s your friend, and if the boy she’s dating is treating her well, then you should support her.”

“I _guess_ ,” Yuri huffed. Only he could date someone his grandfather _adored_ and then get chastised for talking shit about JJ Leroy. “ _My_ boyfriend’s better though,” he added under his breath, and if he delighted in the particular shade of red Otabek turned at that, well, no one could blame him.

* * *

Yuri, really, should have known that Victor would come by the next day. Otabek had spent the night, although they definitely hadn’t had sex (they hadn’t had a condom, for one, and they both agreed that that would be moving a bit too fast). They had, however, made out _a lot_ , and fallen asleep together in the bottom bunk.

Victor, in typical Victor fashion, barged into Yuri’s room in the morning without knocking. “Yura~!” he called. “I thought we could go shopping!”

Yuri, at first, groaned and buried his face in his pillow. “Fuck off, Vitya.”

“ _Oh my god_!” Victor squealed, and if Yuri hadn’t been awake, he was now. “You two finally figured it out?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “Victor!” Yuri yelled. “Fuck. Off!”

“Just don’t have sex without condoms, and _lots_ of lube! Oh my god!” Victor said. “There’s this store on South Street! We can all go with Yuuri; it’d be like a fun bonding trip! It’s called Condom Kingdom! But they sell sex toys and lube, too, of course!”

That was it. Yuri jumped out of bed and wrestled Victor out of the room, who insisted that he was just trying to help, and locked the door behind him. He turned to Otabek, who was looking at him blearily.

“Well,” Otabek said. “I guess… he didn’t take it _badly_ …”

“We’re not going to that store with him, could you fucking _imagine_?”

“You’d probably kill him,” Otabek said. “And… honestly, I’d prefer to date you _outside_ of prison.”

Yuri hummed in agreement and climbed back into bed. “He’ll probably harass us some more.”

“I _do_ have an apartment now. And no roommates.”

“That sounds _fantastic_ ,” Yuri said. “We’ll have to deal with him, though. He’s not leaving until we go out there. But… I think we’ll be okay to go back to sleep.” He checked the time on his cursed alarm clock. “Holy fuck it’s eight AM.”

“Sleep sounds good.”

* * *

Two hours later, Yuri went to stumble out to the kitchen for coffee, but he was accosted by Victor. “What happened between you and Otabek last night?”

Yuri narrowed his eyes. “If you don’t let me get coffee, I _will_ kick you in the nuts.”

Victor blanched and stepped aside, but followed Yuri to the kitchen. Fortunately, he waited until Yuri had started the coffee maker to accost him further. “So?”

“Christ, Victor, you’re twenty-eight.”

“I’m basically your older brother, Yuri.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. Really, Victor was unbearable. “Otabek’s my boyfriend now, I guess.”

“You _guess_?”

“Fine. He’s my boyfriend. But all we did was make out last night. And for fuck’s sake, Victor, don’t corner him about this.”

“I need to give him the shovel talk.”

“You really _don’t_ ,” Yuri said. “And if you do, I’ll kick _your_ ass.”

Rather than Victor backing off, as Yuri had anticipated, Victor actually softened and _cooed_. “Aww, you’re protective of your new boyfriend!”

“Victor, I swear to fucking god. He already had a big guilt thing about being _older_ than me.”

“He’s… only two years older than you?” Victor said, furrowing his brows.

“ _Exactly_ ! But honestly… do you really think he _needs_ the shovel talk?”

Victor hummed, tapping his lips with his index finger. “I guess not. He’s been in love with you for years, after all. But if he oversteps his bounds, let me know.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I doubt he will, but whatever.” He realised a few seconds later what Victor had said before that. “Wait, _you_ noticed?”

Victor scoffed. “ _Everyone_ noticed, Yura. I’m pretty sure his _professors_ noticed. Ded and I would talk about it, sometimes. And Yuuri, too, of course.”

“Great,” Yuri drawled. “Just what I needed. _Everyone_ apparently knew except for me.”

“We all knew you liked him, too, if that helps at all.”

“How would that _help_ ?” He and Otabek had just gotten together the night before; knowing that _Victor_ had known Yuri’s feelings before he even did himself wasn’t in the least reassuring.

Victor shrugged. “You really could stand to be more aware of your emotions, you know.”

“Fuck off, Victor.”

“I’m really glad you two finally figured it out, Yura,” Victor said. “I was worried we’d have to take drastic measures.”

Yuri didn’t really know who “we” was, but he didn’t ask. His coffee was done, so he got out his favorite mug and poured himself a cup. He trudged back to his bedroom, where Otabek was still in bed. “Want some coffee?” he asked. “There’s more out there.”

“No, thanks,” Otabek said. He ran a hand through his hair. Holy shit, his stupid fake Beatles haircut actually looked _hot_ first thing in the morning. But then, well, _Otabek_ was hot. “...I forgot my toothbrush.”

“You can use mine,” Yuri said with a shrug.

“Are you sure?”

“Beka, we had our tongues in each other’s mouths for the better part of the night. I really don’t think it’s a problem if you use my toothbrush.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Otabek said.

Yuri sat down on his bed and drank his coffee while Otabek played with his hair. “You know,” Otabek said, “part of me still can’t believe last night wasn’t just some wonderful dream.”

“I know,” Yuri said.

“I never really thought that you’d… reciprocate.”

“If it helps, Victor, Ded, and Katsuki have apparently been talking about how long it’d take for us to get together behind our backs. Victor told me when I went to get coffee.”

“That sounds like Victor,” Otabek agreed.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes while Yuri drank his coffee. Otabek played with Yuri’s hair. It was nice, Yuri decided, having a boyfriend. Really nice. Especially when your boyfriend was Otabek Altin, who was hot and sexy and smart and admittedly had really good taste in music.

And, somehow, that made it easier. Less terrifying.

“I love you,” Yuri said. “I didn’t say it last night, with all of the kissing, but… it’s true.”

Otabek kissed his cheek. “I love you, too.”

“I should’ve said it last night but… I dunno, for some reason the words didn’t want to come out.”

“That happens,” Otabek said. “I must’ve tried to tell you how I felt fifty times before last night.”

“So what, exactly, about me… attracted you, I guess?” Yuri asked.

“Your eyes,” Otabek answered without any hesitation.

“My… eyes?” Well, that would explain why Otabek didn’t seem to be particularly fond of his hair swoop.

“They’re intense. You’re intense. And seeing that, well, intensity in your eyes back when we were kids… I was captivated.” Otabek sighed. “You’re handsome, too, don’t get me wrong. And smarter than you want to admit. But I love your intensity. When you want something, or when you love something, you go all in.”

“And here, I was just going to say you’re smart, and hot, and nice, and you have good taste in music.”

Otabek smiled. “That works, too.” He kissed his cheek. “For the record, I think _you’re_ smart, hot, and nice, and that you have good taste in music, too.”

“Glad to see we’re on the same page. It’s also good to know that you’re a sap early on in the relationship, I think.”

“But I’m your sap,” Otabek said.

Yuri finished his coffee. “While I love talking, I have something better to do in mind, and if we brush our teeth and get dressed, we can go to your apartment where Victor won’t barge in on us.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

* * *

An hour later, once they got into Otabek’s apartment, Yuri remembered something.

“Beka.”

“Mm?”

“What about that guy you liked?”

Otabek smiled and stepped close to Yuri. “Didn’t I tell you?”

Yuri shook his head. “No.”

“Well,” – Otabek kissed him – “to put it simply,” – and wrapped an arm around Yuri’s waist – “I’m kissing him right now.”

Yuri blinked. “That was _me_?”

Otabek hummed and kissed Yuri’s neck. “Intense, passionate, _blond_ , handsome… how in the world did you think it was anyone else?”

Well, when Otabek put it like that, Yuri felt like a goddamn moron. And then. “Wait a fucking minute.”

Otabek stepped back. “What?”

“ _George_?”

Otabek blushed at that. “You pressed me for details. I tried to give them without… telling you that it was you. I didn’t want to scare you.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, closed the gap between them, and kissed him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed. “ _Very_ lucky.”

Yuri grabbed his hand. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Otabek hesitated. “Bedroom?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “To make out, that’s it. I guess we could make out on the couch, too, but I bet your bed’s more comfortable.”

“Yura, I just want to make something clear…”

“Mm?”

“I love you, but I don’t just want to jump right into sex. I want to wait a little bit until we’re both totally comfortable and _sure_ …”

“Okay,” Yuri said. If he were honest, he wouldn’t have said no if Otabek had asked him to have sex right then and there, but… maybe Otabek’s way was smart. “I can wait.”

Otabek smiled. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

Yuri nodded, and they went to go to the bedroom when Yuri had a thought. “I should probably tell Mila. And Bella, too.”

“Okay.”

“Let me borrow your phone.”

Otabek furrowed his brows but fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Yuri. “Uh, the code’s your birthday.”

Yuri actually blushed at that. “You’re fucking hopeless. I love you.” He tapped his birthday onto the lock screen, and opened the phone. He located the camera app pretty quickly, and made sure the front-facing camera was on. Then he kissed Otabek and took a selfie of the two of them, mid-kiss.

He showed the photo to Otabek (his _boyfriend_ ). “What do you think?”

Otabek smiled. “I love it.”

“Mind if I send it to Mila?”

“No. I might as well send it to Ari, Jess, and Torie, too.”

So he did. He got Mila’s number from his own phone and sent her the selfie.

 He handed Otabek his phone back. “I think she’s happy, but I’ll get a lecture about not telling her things, and a whole song and dance about how she was right.”

Otabek hummed. “Let’s see what my friends think.” He tapped at the phone, and it pinged a few times almost immediately afterward. Otabek held the phone out for Yuri to look.

 “You _pined_ over me?” Yuri asked.

Otabek blushed. “I’ve been in love with you for _years_ , Yura.”

And, so, Yuri decided to kiss him. “Maybe you can make up for a little bit of that lost time.”


	17. Clearly Soulmates (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later, or: In which Victor and Katsuki get married in Hasetsu.

In September, Victor and Katsuki picked a date for their wedding. And then, of course, Victor informed everyone at dinner that the wedding would be held in Katsuki’s hometown of Hasetsu, Japan. “But, of course, I’ll fly you all out! And Rabbi Friedman, too, of course. We want to have a Jewish wedding.”

Katsuki nodded. “I’ve started intro to Judaism classes, but I won’t finish the official conversion until a year from now… but we don’t want to wait until then to get married.”

Yuri complained about the distance to fucking Japan of all places, but if he were honest, he was mostly just fucking relieved that the wedding wasn’t in Paris. Because he’d fully been anticipating Paris. And, really, would the flight be  _ that _ terrible with Otabek next to him the whole time?

And, so, a little after his first anniversary with Otabek (they’d spent a few days in D.C. together, and even though they couldn’t get  _ exactly _ the same room as before, the king-sized bed at the Capitol Hilton was much better), Yuri, his grandfather, and Otabek went to PHL for their long and convoluted flight to Japan.

Victor had sprung for business class for their grandfather, but Yuri and Otabek had to deal with economy. It wasn’t terrible, though, and they had Mila petsitting Pyotya, so Yuri didn’t really have anything to worry about.

Katsuki met them at the airport in Fukuoka and drove them the hour to his small hometown. Yuri desperately wanted a shower and a nap (cuddled up with Otabek, of course), but the second they walked into the Japanese inn, Yuri and Otabek were accosted by Victor as Katsuki showed Ded to his room.

Victor threw his arms around Yuri in a hug. “Yura! How was your flight?”

“Uneventful. Look, Victor, I missed you, too, or whatever, but right now Beka and I both need a shower and some sleep.”

“Oh!” Victor said. “You can soak in the  _ onsen _ !”

“English?”

“Hot springs! Technically the inn is closed right now, so you two would have it just the two of you!”

Yuri exchanged a look with Otabek.

“I think I’d fall asleep,” Otabek said.

Victor pouted. “Okay. Then tomorrow. It’s  _ wonderful _ . Everything here is  _ wonderful _ . Here, I’ll show you two to your room!”

It took another fifteen minutes for Victor to shut the fuck up and leave them alone. Yuri didn’t even shower. He just stripped down to his underwear and crawled into the bed.

He woke the next morning to the now-familiar sight of Otabek sleeping peacefully next to him. Yuri somehow managed to grab Otabek’s phone (which had the better camera), and take a picture without his boyfriend even noticing. Shit, his boyfriend was adorable. 

Yuri really wanted to stay in bed with him all day, but he felt  _ disgusting _ , so he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt (not really paying any mind if they were from his bag or Otabek’s) and trudged downstairs. 

Victor and Katsuki were in the dining room, going over last-minute plans. Yuri sat down across from them. “Where do I shower? I just crashed last night.”

Victor stood up. “I’ll show you.”

And so Victor led Yuri back up the hall to a bathroom. “And if you want to soak in the  _ onsen _ , just make sure you’ve bathed first.”

Yuri nodded. “Thanks.” He ran back to his room for his shower things (and realised that he was wearing Otabek’s clothes), typed a note to Otabek on his phone, and went to wash off twenty hours of  _ plane _ .

* * *

Yuri didn’t know why he’d expected his time in Hasetsu to be  _ relaxed _ , but between fittings and talking Victor down from bad decisions, he’d been in the tiny Japanese town for more than forty-eight hours before he and Otabek managed to get enough privacy to put their double bed to use. 

Afterward, as they cuddled, Otabek asked Yuri, “have you ever thought about this?”

“Being on vacation in Japan?” Yuri asked. “Can’t say I have.”

“No,” Otabek said. “That’s not what I mean. I meant, uh, marriage.”

“Well,” Yuri said, “I’m a  _ little _ young for that. Generally speaking, I’m pretty sure all of the states that would let  _ us _ get married wouldn’t let  _ me _ get married for another… nine months, at least. And I, personally, would prefer to be done college.”

“Right,” Otabek said. “But…”

Yuri kissed him. “But if we manage to get through another five years… Beka, I’d be fucking lucky to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Otabek blushed, but when he went in for another kiss, Yuri stopped him. “Seriously, though, I know you’re a sappy asshole. No proposals until I’m done college.”

“Got it.”

Yuri kissed him.

* * *

In spite of all of Victor’s melodrama, Yuri had to admit that the ceremony was beautiful. And not just because he was picked to be Victor’s  _ shomer _ over fucking Giacometti. Yuri hadn’t been convinced that Victor could pull off a Jewish wedding in Japan, but he and Katsuki had managed to make it an impressive blend of Jewish and Japanese tradition. 

They even had a chuppah.

Granted, Victor and Katsuki had both cried at their vows, and Yuri was pissed that the drinking age in Japan was twenty, but on the bright side, that meant that Otabek was forced to be sober for everything, too. Especially since Katsuki’s usually-cool sister, Mari, had decided that she wasn’t going to break the law for them.

So, well, if Yuri and Otabek left the reception a bit early… well, no one could blame them.

That night, as they laid in their bed at Yu-Topia, going through videos on YouTube, Yuri remembered something.

“Beka,” he said.

“Mm?”

“What  _ did _ Victor say in that video he did about the inauguration?”

Otabek blushed. “Um, well… after we got back from D.C., I went to talk to him. I was confused; you’d almost kissed me and then  _ kept _ being affectionate, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. So I went to talk to Victor, and… he must not have had any idea that I watched his videos, because there was probably a solid minute dedicated to us.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Yuri said.

“Not on his wedding night, please,” Otabek said. “We can watch it if you want? It wasn’t too bad.”

And so they did. Yuri typed in “poodlelover80 obama inauguration” and the still of Victor from a year and a half ago popped up. He clicked on it.

“Bonjour et bienvenue au nouveau vidéo de Vitya à Philadelphie! Today, we’ll be talking about an American event, but one very important: the inauguration of President Barack Obama!”

“He starts talking about us about a minute in, if I remember correctly,” Otabek said.

Yuri skipped to that point in the video and leaned against his boyfriend.

In the video, Victor clapped his hands together. “So! My baby cousin – well, he’s almost sixteen – went to D.C. to see the inauguration in person! His boyfriend had tickets!”

“You weren’t my boyfriend then,” Yuri said.

“Believe me, I know.”

“They spent what sounded like a  _ very _ romantic long weekend in D.C. together, and after they got back, his boyfriend actually came over to ask for my advice! It was very sweet; my baby cousin definitely found himself a keeper! I’m so happy for them! I mean,” Victor said in the video, “they’re not official yet, according to his boyfriend, but I’m sure it’s just because my baby cousin is being his usual shy self! I predict by this time next month, they’ll be official!”

Yuri snorted. “He was awfully confident.”

“Yura,” Otabek said. “We  _ did  _ get drunk together and almost kiss.”

“Yeah, and I panicked and ran away.”

“Anyway,” Victor continued, “I can’t give out their names, as you know, so my baby cousin’s boyfriend will stay ‘baby cousin’s boyfriend’ until he becomes ‘baby cousin’s fiancé’, and, hopefully, one day, ‘baby cousin’s husband’. They’re clearly soulmates,” Victor told the camera seriously. “Mark my words.”

Yuri shut the computer and kissed his boyfriend. “Well, in retrospect, at least I can  _ admit _ that I was a giant fucking idiot. I should’ve fucking pounced on you in that hotel room.”

“I certainly wouldn’t have complained.”

“But you  _ must _ feel hurt about that still,” Yuri crooned, putting his laptop on the bedside table and crawling toward his boyfriend. “Let me make it up to you.” 

* * *

The next morning, Christophe Giacometti, who had the pleasure of sharing a wall with Yuri and Otabek, walked over to their table. “Did you two have fun last night?” he purred. “I  _ almost _ mistook you for the newlyweds.”

Otabek just barely managed to physically restrain Yuri.


End file.
